


Mercy to sisters

by Leventelevia



Category: XCOM (Video Games) & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 10:42:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28776993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leventelevia/pseuds/Leventelevia
Summary: The story of a twin Viper siblings life unde Advent and how much it changes due to the influence of Xcom
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	1. [ PROLOGUE: ADVENT ]

**Author's Note:**

> Not my work, the main creators are jkdoesntcare on Fiverr and Rycroft
> 
> Rycroft  
> #6765 the plot maker 
> 
> Commisar Levi  
> #6341 publisher
> 
> Inspired by "A Captive Viper"
> 
> Have fun

[ PROLOGUE: ADVENT ]

[ “italicized in quotes” = speaking in xeno ]

Asuna POV

“Asuna…” Xena hisses from her twin bed, directly across from mine in our small room. 

My eyelids peel back to observe her. She stretches her yellow and orange scaled arms, high over her smooth head; split tongue slithering out between her lips in a wide yawn. I stare at her long dual fangs, elongating as her jaw stretches. My sister is truly an envy among viper women. Her scales nestle together neatly, a slight shine in the light. Her patterns are almost elegant, the way the diamonds weave in and out around her tail. Xena stands tall and proud over most other alien races, her height considered tall even among our own species. 

Between us, I pale in comparison. I sit just slightly under her height, my diamond pattern just slightly skewed; my scales feel lackluster next to the brightness of hers. My fangs are just a sliver shorter...but for everything I lack, I make up for it with larger poison sacks. Something that often gets pointed out in training. 

Something that often makes her glare at me from across the training yard. 

“Is it time already?” I ask in xeno, craning my head to stare at the clock hung on the wall between us. We will have to report for drop in a few hours. Nervousness sits heavy in my abdomen. 

Our room is small aboard the capital ship, in the viper sector. We have just enough room for the beds with corresponding night stands; a small bathroom and a shared dresser. Nearing our twentieth birthday, we were finally granted permission to participate in our first supply mission. 

“Yeah! I am excited to finally kick some XCOM ass,” Xena replies excitedly, the hood of her snake head animatedly spreading wide. Hoping off her bed to slither to the dresser, she slips on a tight fitting tank top, reaching just under her breasts. Our brood mother recommended us the clothing, to help our armor sit more comfortably against our scales. 

“The point of the supply train is to deliver the supplies, Xena. Not pick fights with anyone we think is XCOM,” I tease back at her, stretching and curling my tail to help crack my back against the bed. I let out a small groan as the pops sound off, up to my neck. I shake out the tension, climbing off the bed to mirror my sister. 

“Do not act like it wouldn’t be cool to get in our first firefight!” Xena exclaims excitedly. Between us she has always been the most outgoing, ready to jump into the heat of any drama or battle. She is loud and easily excitable, a quality I often find endearing and refreshing amongst the stoicness of most ADVENT peacekeepers. 

“I think it would be cool for our first mission to succeed without any hitches,” I laugh at her, pulling on my tank top. “...you know what our den mother said about XCOM. They-”

“...are ruthless and unforgiving. I know,” Xena sighs, waving me off with her hand. She slithers towards our bathroom, no doubt getting ready to buff some lotion into her scales. I can never be bothered to do it every day, it takes so much time. 

“You are going to do that right now?” I ask her, curious. “...We still have to go put on our armor and get briefed. The others will be waiting for us…”

“We have plenty of time, sister. I want to make sure if we do encounter XCOM scum, their last visions are of how beautiful and utterly devastating I am,” Xena grins at me, rubbing her hands delicately along the curves of her hood. 

I roll my eyes at her antics. 

The walk to the debriefing room is longer than normal. I am not sure if I am gliding across the floor slower than usual, or if the tension is just weighing heavy on my mind. My sister Xena is abnormally silent, stuck inside her own mind as well. While we both trained hard and long for the opportunity to prove ourselves for ADVENT; nerves still flutter in our abdomen. 

Up to this point we had only engaged in lower level objectives. Patrolling various cities and encampments. Patrolling the ship. Patrolling the air. All we were ever assigned too was patrolling. While it was easy...Xena always grew restless and more antsy with every passing year. We have been training our whole lives, we did not want to be stuck patrolling the civilians. 

We wanted to be on the front lines. 

Training has been rigorous and demanding throughout our lifespans. Our own den mother was high ranking in the ADVENT alien organization. The elders demanded any brood she had immediately be placed into rotation, and thus our lives had been born. We had trained alongside many different species through the years, learned many different tactics- different patterns of thinking and planning. All with one goal in mind: to maintain control over planet earth and all its human inhabitants. XCOM has always been a rebellious organization against us, and thus, target enemy number one. 

Unlike most of the other alien species, we have been granted our free will and independence. Our matriarch reports to the elders, commanding us as they see necessary. With the elders and ADVENT technology, our species would have died out completely. Our males are extinct, our world destroyed. The viper species pledged loyalty to ADVENT almost two centuries ago and in return they promised to help sire our new generations to come. However, only females have been introduced; keeping our loyalty under lock and key. 

The first thing they taught us about XCOM, is their dedication to destruction. 

They showed us video after video of their slaughter. Any species outside of the human race ridiculed and put to death. They showed us everything from news clippings to media posts, to propaganda spread through the human colonies. Everything depicted ADVENT as the bad guys, the villains; when in reality, it was XCOM who were murdering civilians in the streets without so much as a hello. They could not understand that the humans under ADVENT were happy- they were taken care of. They could only see the faces of aliens, undeserving of even the bare minimum respect and decency. 

“Here we go,” Xena whispers to me in xeno, as we enter our changing area. The other members of our squadron are already here, pulling on their armor. We slither towards the other viper, their scales a deep green and black. The vipers yellow eyes widen as they are startled by our presence, quickly easing when they realize we are both vipers as well. 

“Hello,” I begin the conversation calmly, with a slight tilt of my head. I flair my hood respectfully, in a show of peace. 

“Are you ready for the mission??” Xena comments excitedly, pulling her armor off the wall and inspecting it for defects. 

“I am,” The green scaled viper responds, her hood shrinking back. “...It has been a while since I have done a supply demand. I wonder where we will be going,”

“Probably somewhere quiet, hopefully,” I reply smoothly, checking my helmet for dings before putting it on and settling it against my scales. 

“Hopefully?? Nah! Hopefully somewhere… interesting!” Xena exclaims beside me, eyeing the green viper with vibrant orange irises. 

“Interesting huh? Maybe,” The older green viper smiles back gently. Pulling on her helmet. 

We chat idly as we finish suiting up, following each other in a group towards the drop ship. The others in front of us consist of a berserker, two sectoids and a faceless. The later who shape shifts in front of us, into a common human. We gather onto the docked ship, securing ourselves tightly. 

“That looks like a lot of supplies,” I ponder out loud in xeno, eyeing the tall bundles secured down onto the ship. 

“Good. Several territories have been lacking proper medicine and food, down on earth. We need to make sure these make it to their destination,” The green viper comments, eyeing the load closely as well. 

“Big loads mean greater chances of meeting XCOM,” My sister states excitedly, the hood of her head flaring out. 

“Stop it,” I laugh at her, rolling my orange eyes. My stomach churns with nerves, anxiety rising in my chest. 

If we meet XCOM on the field, this will be our first firefight. Sure, we can hit targets on the wall, or even when they are thrown in the air… but a real firefight is much different. Much more unsettling. Much more to lose. I wonder if my sister feels the same as me. Everyday citizens are counting on these supplies and I can not help but feel the pressure weigh heavy on my shoulders. The lives of other aliens and humans alike, rest on these supplies. 

“Attention,” a voice booms over the intercom, robotic in nature as it speaks in xeno. “We will be descending in five minutes. Your objective is to defend this supply cache, as it heads into the city. We are estimating XCOM hostiles. If engaged, eliminate all enemies present on the field. No survivors allowed,” 

“Hell yeah,” Xena mumbles under her breath, propping her assault rifle close to her chest. I relax against the seat as we start our descent to earth. I clench my jaw against the pressure rising, my ears uncomfortably popping at the pressure. The other aliens on the ship do not seem surprised by the information of XCOM soldiers. I wonder how many of them have gone into battle before. How many XCOM they took the last breaths from. 

The ship rumbles and shakes as we land, an uneasiness settling in my bones. My sister seems energized and excited; but I feel a sense of foreboding gently buzz in my instincts. Swiping my split tongue to taste the air, I do not detect anything out of the ordinary. We exit the ship together, following close behind the other aliens. I see an Archon in the distance, speakers to soldiers as they unload the supply crates. My sister and I take the back of the train, standing idly as it’s loaded and secured. My eyes scan the horizons, looking for the slightest bit of movement or shine from a long distance scope… but I never notice anything out of the ordinary. 

“Relax Asuna,” My sister whispers to me as she also scans our surroundings. “...If they are going to attack, it is not going to be right now. If they were smart, they would wait to make sure we unload all the supplies,”

“If they were smart,” I tease back. “...They would not go for the supplies at all,”

“You are right,” My sisters laugh eases the nervousness in my belly. 

The mission continues slowly, for a while. Eventually the supplies are fully loaded and transportable, we begin our course to the destination with ease. I am surprised by how friendly the banter is with the green viper, who we have only just met. Over time my nervousness eases, replaced by a strange sense of routine. I wonder if most of the missions are going to be like this. Is it over exaggerated that XCOM frequently dismantles our operations and steals our supplies?

Or is it just the calm before the storm?

“Enemies inbound!” A telepathic echo goes through my mind. 

“Stay near the end and guard the last supply crates,” The older green viper hisses at us, as she slithers up forward with her rifle at the ready. 

“What is going on?” I mumble back, eyes darting frantically to my surroundings. I do not see anything yet. There is no ship in the sky. No troops on the ground. Were they lying in wait for us?

“Quiet!” My sister snaps at me, her assault rifle aimed and ready. “Be on lookout!”

I flex my fingers as I raise my gun, trying to will the shaky nervousness from their grasp. I have done this a million times in training. I just have to aim and shoot. Shoot anyone who tries to take anything from us. 

Better said than done. 

“What are we supposed to do?” I ask my sister in xeno. In response I hear gunfire, loud and roaring near the front. Our heads snap to attention, eyes widening as I spot the notoriously known Skyranger dropping a squad of four. Dread blooms in my stomach, forcing me to doubt myself. 

My sister, however, seems only amped up more. 

“Here we go!” She grins wildly, sights aimed in their direction. 

I follow her example, tail swishing back and forth.


	2. [ PROLOGUE: XCOM ]

Joshua / Deadeye POV

A subtle knock at the door startles me from my thoughts, pausing my hand that currently wipes down my matte black sniper rifle. I glance up from the position on my loosely made twin bed, to spot Central Officer Bradford at my door. Realization courses through me as I hurriedly jump up from my position, saluting him. 

Officer Bradford looks ragged and aged compared to the old days of his commandment. His hair is messy, a five o’clock shadow spread over his lower jaw. His eyes are worn and tired looking- giving the appearance of a bitter war veteran; a scar on the side of his face to boot. He wears dark standard combat issued pants and boots, a dark green long sleeve with a gray abdomen. I spot the combat knife he has holstered to his shoulder with interest. Rumors say there was a time where he sported a bright green cardigan, with a shirt and tie… the image makes me chuckle lightly. 

I realize I am in my boxers, but try not to appear bothered by it. 

“Sir!” I bellow, unprepared for the visit from such a high ranking Officer. 

“At ease soldier,” He replies calmly to me, taking a step into my small abode. He holds his arms behind his back, eyeing me up and down before giving me room to breathe; as he looks away from my lack of clothing. 

“...Just here to tell you we need you ready for a drop mission later today. There is a supply train moving towards one of the main cities under ADVENT territory. We need the medical supplies on board, badly. Could use your sniping skills. Do you understand?”

“Yes sir!” I reply instantly, saluting him again. 

“Good... Make sure you wear pants at the briefing,” He comments back lightly, eyeing me as he exits with a very subtle grin. When my door slides closed behind him, I let out a loud sigh; falling back onto my bed. My sniper lays beside me, freshly cleaned and prepared for battle. 

“Here we go again bud,” I mumble lightly to my gun, like a pet I keep around with me at all times. 

The next couples hours I spend preparing my choice of weapons for battle. I always bring a spare pistol with me, along with my standard issue combat knife. I clean and tidy them, strapping them to my combat pants as I prepare my uniform. I spend extra time buffing my combat boots, steeling my nerves with each pass over. After a meal and some idle chatter with some of the other soldiers, I hear the announcement over the intercom for my squad to report to the briefing room. I wave goodbye to my comrades, pacing through the halls quickly among the avenger. 

I knock lightly on the briefing room door, the metal sound echoing loudly through the chambers. The door slides open to reveal the conference room. A large rounded table sits in the middle. On the far end my eyes widened to see Dr. Tygan, Chief Shen and Central Officer Bradford. On the end closer to me, I spot three other soldiers, similar to my position. I shuffle in and take a seat, eyes meeting my comrades with a curt nod. 

“Commander will be here shortly,” Bradford states, arms crossed over his chest. “...mission details are in the folders in front of you. Dr. Tygan and Shen are here to help you identify the specific medical supplies we need. Overall, we would like to bring the whole supply train home; but, these medical supplies are the top priority,”

“Yes Sir,” vibrates through the room from all of us as we open our folders. 

Inside are various pictures of the supply chain that we predict will be used. There are shots of heavier loads being pulled on wide trailers, guarded by berserkers. The supply train seems to be a collection of goods, I spot a lot of food rations mixed with the medical supplies. Pulling the map out from underneath, my eyes trail over the city they circled in red marker. 

It is one of the mostly human populated cities under ADVENT. We had gone there several times before to try and recruit others for the cause. Humans there detest the XCOM rebellion because of the ADVENT propaganda fed to them. They think they are living in peace, when really they are just cattle for ADVENT gene therapy. 

The next pictures have text next to them, citing the dangers and weaknesses of the alien guards. It seems vipers will be in the majority, a low sigh escapes my lips. Two of them seem younger in years, their scales still fairly large and shiny against the sunlight. The last one is older, scales smaller from years of shedding and a matte finish stretched across them. They are accompanied by a berserker and a sectoid. Overall a strong guarding team for something as simple as a supply escort. 

“What else is in the supply train?” I ask loudly, before I can think about it. The Officers seem surprised I noticed it, Bradford hiding a very subtle smirk. 

“What do you mean?” Bradford questions me back, eyes staring me down as a forefinger and thumb hold up the side of his face. 

“This is… kinda a heavy guard team, right? They frequently have supply trains to this specific city. We have interrupted them a couple times that I know of, sure, but most of the time it's not really worth the trouble. So why are there three vipers and a berserker... for supplies?”

“Good catch,” The Commander's voice rings through the room as he enters. I watch him with a surprised expression. He takes his seat at the end of the table, pushing his folder away. 

“...the medical supplies are not just basic necessities for everyday wounds and illnesses-” The Commander begins, calmly. 

“Wait. I do not think-” Dr. Tygan interrupts, but Commander merely waves him off. The doctor sits back in his seat, sighing. 

“The medical supplies also contain samples of human DNA that have been manipulated with gene therapy. We believe there might be the next generation of alien hybrids encased and hidden in that supply run,” The Commander finished, waiting for a response. 

“Isn’t there rumored to be an ADVENT lab in that city?” The soldier next to me asks. I look down to read his name on his chest, Striker sits there in bold letters. Striker is a heavy muscular soldier, hair buzzed short on the sides with more length on top. His cut is even and trimmed to the T, darker than night. He catches me staring, his dark eyes narrowing to meet my green ones. I shrug in response, looking away. 

“There is,” Dr. Tygan supplies, pushing his glasses up against his face. “...it is taking cover as an ADVENT burger factory,”

“That’s hilarious,” I mutter quietly, shuffling through my folder. 

“I shouldn’t have to remind you what happens if you get captured,” The Commander states seriously. “...you will be tortured for information. Mind probed and controlled. More than likely, DNA harvested. Experimented on. The list goes on… If you think you can not make it home intact,”

“Execute yourself,” Officer Bradford finishes. “...It is very likely they might try to send you back in as a double agent. Naturally, we would inspect you if that were to happen...but no promises can be made that we would be able to save you,”

“I understand,” I reply, various agreements going around the table. 

“What about them? Should we try to capture one of these scumbags?” Striker asks, staring at a pair of identical vipers. 

“If you can, and it is easy, yes. do not waste any extra energy doing so though,” The Commander responds. “...The priority is the medical supplies. Anything else is just helpful,”

“Yes sir,” We all reply again. 

“We will be leaving in about an hour on the Skyranger. Make sure you are loaded and ready. Deadeye, you will be the sharpshooter. Try to take out enemies before they get close to the troopers we have gathering the supplies. Striker, I want you on the ground mobilizing the other rangers. I want you to focus on eliminating the berserker first, and then moving on as you see necessary. Deadeye will support you while minimizing the risk to the supply raiders. Let's bring everyone back home tonight, okay?” The Commander finishes, rising from his seat. 

“Yes Sir!” 

Immediately we all head to the Skyranger, equipping ourselves to the teeth. I strap my sniper to my back for easy carrying, walking onto the Skyranger and selecting my seat. I breathe deeply for a moment, willing my nerves to settle and calm. This isn’t my first mission, and I’d like to make sure it was not my last. 

“You ready?” Striker asks me, sitting across the walkway. His dark eyes flit across my weapon in what I can’t help but feel is judgemental and condescending. 

“I am good,” I reply back, tight lipped. 

“Can not wait to surprise these motherfuckers,” Striker laughs, a wide spread grin on his lips. I do not comment on his enthusiasm. 

“You hate ADVENT?” One of the rangers asks, adjusting himself in his seat. 

“Don’t we all?” He snaps back quickly, defending himself. “...Damn aliens stole our whole planet. Made us into slaves and...fucking livestock, for gods sake. You think I am gonna walk up next to one and be friends?”

“No,” The soldier replies quietly, with a sigh. 

“You know, we have aliens that work for us too, right?” I bud in for some reason. I can feel the tension skyrocket in the room. 

“We are just using them for information, otherwise they wouldn’t be alive,” Striker spits back at me, a scowl on his face. 

“Or… they do not believe in ADVENT goals or ways of doing things. Maybe… hear me out on this, they support our cause,” Striker stares blankly at me before I notice the temper bubble under his skin in the form of thick veins appearing on his forehead. 

“What, you part alien or something? ADVENT stick it's pretty needles in you and make you into a loyal mutt?” 

“No,” I snap back, trying my best to keep my tone calm. “...I am just saying you're no different from ADVENT if your just going to kill aliens indiscriminately or claim that their only use is as knowledge slaves,” 

“The fuck did you just say?” Striker growls, leaning forward in his seat. My eyes briefly flit to the seat belt across his chest, holding him back. 

“Shut up,” We hear the pilot order from the cockpit. 

“Yes Sir,” Our squad replies in unison. Striker sits back in his seat, arms folding over his chest as he stares me down. 

It doesn't take long to reach the drop point after that. The Skylander hovers near the front of the supply train, ADVENT troopers scattering upon visual of our ship. The metal doors open on both sides with a loud whirl and my stomach drops. 

I hate this part. 

Grabbing the rope, we all simultaneously drop out of the ship. We cling to the rope as we descend low enough to drop down. The wind blows harshly in the air. I am ecstatic when my feet finally touch the comfort of the ground, adrenaline coursing through my body. I immediately duck behind a large rock, watching as Striker and the two other soldiers move out. I listen to rapid gun fire as I wait a moment to still my beating heart. 

Poking my head up, I begin zeroing in on ADVENT soldiers surrounding the supplies.


	3. Chapter 3

[ CHAPTER 1 ]

[ “italicized in quotes” = speaking in xeno ]

ASUNA POV

“There are going for the medical supplies!” I hear the green viper screech, barely dodging a bullet incoming. She ducks behind a cart filled with assorted boxes, peeking around the corner to shoot her rifle. I watch frozen for a moment, adrenaline coursing through my body as I try to find somewhere to hide. My sister pushes forward into the fire zone, coming up to aid the green viper who is being overwhelmed with gun power. 

“Stay back!” The green viper yells to my sister and I. “...You both need to stay near the rear, guarding the important med supplies. Those have to make it into the city, regardless of what happens- do you understand me?” She hisses, staring my sister in the face. 

“Affirmative,” My sister replies blankly, eyes narrowing in on the squad of three approaching the berserker. “... the troops are not much help, you will have to move up and assist the berserker in taking out those three XCOM soldiers,”

“I agree,” The green viper yells. My sister falls back to me, crouching behind a supply cache with shaky hands. 

“Are you okay?” She yells over the gun power, peeking her head up above the cache and shooting at the squad pushing through. 

“I am okay,” I say uneasy, peeking up to do the same. I spot an open shot towards the leader, aiming my scopes to his head. My finger pauses on the trigger, hesitating in taking the kill. Instead the berserker charges into my vision, using both hands to violently thrash downwards into the group. They scatter in response, finding new cover and exchanging firepower with our other ADVENT troopers. 

Then I watch heads begin to pop, one by one. The bodies freezing before collapsing to the ground. 

“Get down!” My sister shouts, pulling on my hood harshly as we duck behind our cover. 

“What is going on?” I whisper in a heated fashion, eyes wide as I reload my gun. 

“A sniper you idiot! You didn’t see the heads exploding??” 

“Oh…” I hiss back. “...I did, I just wasn’t sure,”

“What about heads exploding are you unsure about??” She yells back at me, like a mother lecturing her child. “...stay here behind cover,”

“Where are you going??” I cry, hand grabbing at her arm. “...they told us to stay here in the back to be the last line of defense for these medical supplies,”

“I know what they said,'' She throws back at me, ripping her arm from my grip. “...but if I do not move forward and help, we will lose. Their sniper to taking out all the troopers too fast,”

“The sector requested back-up. We just have to wait it out-“ I try to argue back with her. 

“They will not get here in time!” She hollers at me, rounding the corner of our supply shield. Panic courses through my veins. I peek up to try and pinpoint the sniper, but cannot see the shine of his scope. I focus on assisting the other squad members, following my sister as she moves forward next to the older green viper. They spit poison clouds onto the leader, but he hardly seems affected by it. He must have a resistance to poison, or prepared himself beforehand. My sister tries to swipe at him with her tail, pushing in for close combat. Her tongue shoots out to attack him, but he quickly pulls back. They exchange firepower, bullets thumping off her armor in loud dings. The battlefield is too loud in my ears. My brain is going haywire. 

I watch more troopers go down, as enemy raiders start to steal from the furthest supply cargos. I aim my sights to shoot them down, but quickly have to duck down as assault rounds nearly take out my head. When I peek back up, the berserker has a XCOM ranger in his grips, slamming him on the ground repeatedly. 

The XCOM leader spots this, his rifle shifting position from my sister to the berserker in an instant. I aim for him as he is distracted, trying to shoot him in the arms and disable his ability to fire. My hits miss, the shakiness in my hands forcing my shots to stutter. I curse at myself, reloading and breathing deeply. By the time I am composed and peeking my head back up, the XCOM ranger is dead and his teammates outraged. The ranger's body lays broken and disfigured on the ground, bones poking out from various points in his flesh. The image burns into my memory. 

“Watch out!” I yell at my sister in xeno. I aim my assault rifle for the other ranger that is flanking her. My goal is to shoot his legs, but murky yellow blood enters my vision and makes my heart lurch into my throat. I quickly look back for my sister- only to see the body of the green viper laid out over a box of supplies on the ground. Her eyes are dulling already, fangs fully extended as the sniper bullet in her head leaks yellow profusely. The image imprints in my mind, shattering my resolve as I gasp for air. 

My sister's cry brings me back to my senses. I am slithering forward before I can think about it clearly, ducking and covering after I watch the berserker fall to the ground- blood spraying and pooling around his body. The XCOM leader has finally taken the alien out, and the sectiod not far behind. They flank it, a knife to the back of the head and a bullet wound in its gut. 

XCOM is truly ruthless. 

I try my best to sneak towards my sister, mind racing with strategic plans of escape. Memories of the news playing videos of XCOM cruelty towards aliens flashes through my mind. I find my sister crouched behind a rock off to the side, her head secured behind the earth as she peeks with her rifle to defend her position. Bullets are grinding into the rock, but missing their target. 

“Ssssister!” I cry, accent trembling as worry overrides my sense of self preservation. My sister catches my yell, eyes widening as she glances at me. In an instant she is uncoiling her tail, raising slightly to aim a rifle at me. My brain is slow moving, slow in comprehending as she fires several shots, numerous grunts echoing behind me. My head snaps to the sound, watching as another XCOM ranger falls to the ground, holding his abdomen. 

“Get over here!” She commands, an edge in her voice. I try to do as I am told, slithering lowly towards the comfort of my sister. But just as I begin, her eyes widen dramatically, arms falling to her sides as her weapon drops to the ground. 

“Sister?” I question in confusion, still moving towards hers. Yellow drips from her mouth as her eyes half lid. I watch her hands move in slow motion, rising to hover over the wound now present just below her breasts. 

“...XENA!” I roar, my worst fears coming to life. I slither quickly, catching her body as it lands in my arms. Blood seeps from under her chest armor, an open bullet wound right in her upper abdomen. My vision reddens in heartbreak, tears streaming from my eyes as my hood spreads wide in anger. My eyes move towards the horizon, looking for a sniper. Instead I spot the XCOM squad leader, who grins wildly at me like he just won a prize. 

My aim is near perfect when I shoot again, firing the whole clip at the XCOM squad leader in a furious rage. I notice a bullet stray and graze his arm as he ducks for cover; the sight of his red blood eases my pain while simultaneously amplifying it. 

“I’ll kill you!” I scream at him, in near perfect human English. “...I’ll kill you for what you did to my sister!”

“Fat chance snake bitch!” The rude squad leader replies, having the audacity to laugh at my misery. “...you’re outmatched and outgunned!”

XENA POV

“We shall see!” I hear my sisters normally quiet voice scream. My vision is blurry on the ground… all I can feel is pain coursing through my insides. Rippling through my intestines. I watch in fascination as my meek sister from earlier turns into a full raging Peacekeeper. She fires and reloads constantly, checking over on me with a scaled hand to my cheek. 

“Hold on,” She whispers affectionately, determination in her eyes. “...I’ll figure this out,”

“You… can not,” I try to say, try to tell her to run. To get away while she had the chance. No amount of medical supplies is worth this, They can send more. I’d rather one of us make it out of here alive. Back to visit our den mother. 

I watch her duck suddenly, a sniper bullet digging deeply into the rock we are hiding behind. The XCOM squad leader is closing in on her. I want to break his thin human neck, but my tail isn’t listening to my commands. My body feels like it weighs its weight in iron, my chest barely able to hold each breath that I take. I do not know how much longer I have left. How many more times my lungs can fill and bring oxygen into my veins. 

“Get… out,” I whisper to my sister in xeno, trying to make it clear what I want. “...save yourself,”

“I’d rather die than leave you here,” My sister snaps at me unexpectedly. Her eyes dart around fast and unsure. In a moment of clarity I watch her turn into a younger version of herself in front of me. A small viper with a flower crown on her head, joyous laughter in her lungs. My sister has always been the kinder one between us. Born too late in the universe, where now there is only war and strife for our kind. If I could let myself, I would cry for her. Cry for this moment where she loses her gentle kindness, replaced with a hardened anger for revenge. 

It is only a matter of time before the squad leader closes in on us. Only a matter of time before the sniper finds a good angle to take her out with. A stray bullet grazes her arm, causing her to drop her weapon in surprise. She hurriedly kneels beside me, clutching her bleeding arm. Her hands are shaky as she picks up the rifle again, trying to ignore the pain as her arm stretches back out to secure the weapon against her shoulder. I try to move my hand towards her, but only my fingers have the strength left to wiggle. 

“It’s gonna be okay,” I hear her chant to herself like a prayer. “...I am gonna get us both out of here Xena,”

“We will be punished,” I respond to her quietly, my voice barely a whisper. She does not seem to have heard me as she continues on, reloading her gun. 

“Look what we got here!” I hear the squad leader snarl, close to our location. I can not move my head to meet his gaze. 

“Do not move!” My sister yells, fiercely defending me as her tail fully stretches out. “...I can strangle you in a instant if you come any closer,”

“Maybe,” He says, a cruel grin spreading on his face. “...but your sister would die before you made it out of here,”

Realization dawns in my mind as I try to warn her. 

“Do not listen to him,” I mumble in xeno, hoping she can hear me. She tilts her head to register that I've made a sound, but does not make any indication that she knows what I said. 

“What do you mean?” She asks him. Her voice is much more aggressive than I’ve ever heard it before. I am not sure if I like it. 

“We just want medicinal supplies right? What if we gave you some to help your sister?”

“You would not do that,” My sister snaps back, rifle raised and ready. “...Do you think I am stupid?”

“No no,” The human chastises, aiming his gun right back at her. “...I think you know I am right. Your sister is injured, yeah, but the second I come in close- you both would choke the life out of me. Wouldn’t you?”

I’ll hand it to him. I was planning on doing just that, if he charged her outright. 

“...my sniper can not get a shot on you right now. So.. a deal is the best way out of this. Don't you agree?” He finishes, dark eyes measuring my sister up and down. 

“No,” My sister growls, slithering forward as he steps back. My mind races, realizing he is purposefully baiting her so the sniper can aim up a shot. I use all my strength, wrapping my tail around my sister's foot; pressuring her to stay where she is. 

I can not hold out for much longer after that, my vision fading to pitch black around the edges. I pray to whomever may be listening, have mercy on my sister and I. 

Be safe Asuna. 

  
ASUNA POV

My sister's tail curves around my ankle, stopping me from moving forward. My eyes briefly land on her face, watching as her lids cover her eyes. My heart clenches in my chest. A sadness overwhelming my senses. 

“Looks like she doesn’t have much longer,” The squad leader reminds me, an edge in his voice. 

“You can save her?” I hear my voice tremble, speaking my thoughts before I have a chance to filter them. 

“Of course,” He says with confidence. I do not trust him though. My instincts are yelling at me through every fiber in my bones. His dark eyes hold no kindness. 

“What…” I hear myself reply. Am I in control anymore? My rifle lowers slightly, the end of my tail flicking back and forth in frustration. “...What do I have to do?” I whisper near the end, tears coming to my eyes that spill in heated streams down my cheeks. 

“I can not lose her…” I see the hesitation in his eyes, for just a moment. “...she’s my sister I-... she’s the only one left..”

“Your sister?” He questions taking a step forward, my body immediately tenses in recoil; bringing my weapon back up. 

“Woah there,” He snaps back at me. I hear the click of his weapon lock. “...easy. I can not promise you medicine if you do not put some trust in me first,”

“Trust?” I spit, my orange irises narrowing in angry. “...rich coming from you,”

“I know trust is not something an alien would understand,” He throws back at me, with just as much venom as any viper that I’ve ever met. I hear a twig snap behind me, watch as his dark eyes dart- for just a fraction of a second. My instincts flair on my left flank. I immediately move to stand over my sister, body turning; as another soldier comes out from behind a supply pile. A notable sniper rests in his hands, scope aimed on my face. 

“What is going on here?” The intruder questions loudly, eyes flickering between me and the XCOM squad leader. My tongue flickers out to gage his emotions, he holds a lot less contempt than the squad leader does. 

“You killed my sister!!” I scream, tears erupting as I spit a poison cloud directly on his position. The squad leaders shot barely misses as I slither back, twirling and extending my tail to knock the gun from his hands. In the next second I have him ensnared, the muscles of my tail encircling around his abdomen; holding him close to the ground. I apply enough pressure to bruise, but not break, any of his bones. My sights turn to the poison cloud, assault rifle at the ready. 

“You.. mother fucker!” The squad leader manages to weeze, his breathing heavy. I ignore the sounds of his outburst, revenge nearly in my grasps. 

“...Deadeye!! Kill her!” I hear him yell to his squadmate. Deadeye appears unharmed from the poison, sniper at the ready as he inches to the side of my position. I follow him, the hood of my head flaring wide in anger. My tears will not stop pouring from my eyes, no matter how much I try. I keep wiping my cheek on my shoulder, quickly, so there isn’t a moment he can use to overtake me. 

“...Drop your weapon,” He states calmly, eyes focused on mine. 

“No! You killed my sister!!” I shout, emotions further clogging the battlefield that is my mind. 

“She is not dead. We can still save her,” He replies quickly, stopping and standing steady in his position. “...just lower your weapon. You both can make it out of this, alive,”

“There is no ‘making it out’ of this!” I cry, fangs bared. 

“Just kill it!” The man coiled in my tail shouts, I squeeze him tightly in response; barely holding back the urge to just snap him in too. 

“Do not kill him,” Deadeye quickly informs me, like giving a soldier an order. “...do not kill him. If you spare him and put down your weapons, I promise you I will make sure your sister gets the care that she needs,”

“She needs medicine!” I yell, gun lowering slightly as I glance down at her. “...She needs medicine a-and you're stealing it all! Leaving none for the rest of us! For those hurting in the city!” 

“We do not care about your medicine,” He quickly counters, exchanging eye contact with his squad leader. “...at least, not really,”

“What do you mean?” I retort bitterly. “...You’ve murdered everyone just to steal our medicine for your own selfish needs! It is not just aliens.. Humans in the city are going to die without this medicine, you know that?” I hiss back, gripping the ranger in my tail harshly. I hear a quiet crack and know I’ve broken a bone somewhere. 

“Hey- hey!” Deadeye hollers at me, watching his comrade cough uneasy. “...easy! Listen, I just need you to trust me,”

“Trust you??” I interrupted what I am sure was a well thought out and rehearsed speech. “...Ha! That's what this one tried to pull on me! You expect me to trust you? After everything your organization has done? After all the aliens your kind has murdered for simply being alive??”

“Hey. That's a little bit of pot, calling the kettle, black...” He mumbles, raising his eyebrows at me. 

“What sort of human phrase are you sprouting right now??” I hiss, raising my rifle again. 

“Don’t do it. I could still live after the shot from this range, granted I try to doge. But this,” He moves this weapon up and down. “...This will probably kill you no matter where I shoot,” 

“I do not have a choice,” I reply, voice cracking from the stress. “..I can die here or die as one of your science experiments. Which would you rather do?…”

“We do not experiment on you. That’s ADVENT who does that shit,” He echoes back at me, inching forward with an angry expression. “...Look, I am putting down my weapon,”

“Are you stupid??” The squad leader screams. I watch the sharpshooter slowly bend at the knees, placing his long sniper rifle on the ground gently. He holds his hands up, palms facing me as he rises again. I hear loud electrical interference from Deadeye's earpiece. 

“Why are you doing this?” I mumble angrily, staring down the scope. 

“Because… it's the right thing to do,” He replies back earnestly, a small uneasy grin on his face. “...Give us a chance. We can save your sister,” 

“And what? Just toss us back to ADVENT? do not be ridiculous,” 

“Yeah? Or maybe you’ll wanna stay,” He responds in kind. “...after you walk in a mile in someone else's shoes,”

“Am I supposed to know what that means? I do not wear shoes,” I counter, lowering my gun with furrowed brows. 

“Come on now, I know you aint dumb,” He chuckles, slowly stepping forward. “...I’ll save your sister, if you let go of my squad mate. Deal?” 

The air in tense as the pause lengthens. I analyze my surroundings. No one from ADVENT is left, XCOM agents trudging through the supplies behind us. There is nowhere for me to turn if I want to leave with my life- with my sister's life- intact. I begrudgingly toss the squad leader by Deadeye with a harsh thump. 

“You bitch!” He groans, holding his rib. “...I’ll fucking-”

“Promise me,” I crouch low to my sister, depositing my rifle on the ground beside her as I cradle her limp body in my hands. My tears drop onto her cheeks, a harsh expression on my face. 

“...Promise me if they turn us into...if we become another of your science projects- you’ll just kill us,” My eyes lift to match his, my jaw hurts from clenching against my emotions- from exhaustion. 

“...I promise,” He whispers, crouching down next to me. I watch his finger lift to his earpiece, words I no longer care to listen to rushing from his lips. I cradle my dear sister in my arms, close to my chest; my tail wrapping around us. I am not sure what the future brings… but I have no one to guide me. I hear a slosh of liquid, looking up to spot the sharpshooter, Deadeye, holding a long syringe. My browbones furrow in anger, my fangs extending. 

He looks at me past the needle as it fills, a soft expression on his face. At this point there is no use in fighting, I have already shown my weakness. 

I lock eyes with him as he sticks a needle in my neck, just under my jaw where it is soft. His eyes are not as cold as I assumed they would be, but warm and filled with regret. My eyelids are heavy as my vision blurs, I catch a glimpse of the squad leader behind him- grinning like a beast. 

Forgive me Xena


	4. [ CHAPTER 4 ]

ASUNA POV

A loud bang wakes us both from our slumber, urgent yelling following. 

“Asuna! Xena!” Deadeyes calls through the door, continuing to bang. “...I am coming in!”

Before we have time to sit up in our beds, Deadeye barges in; two guards behind him. I narrow my eyes in suspicion, my sister hissing loudly. 

“Please do not be alarmed,” Deadeye starts, pausing in realization of the irony in what he just said. His hair is a mess, clothes very obviously thrown on in a hurry.

“...I am sorry for barging in. The Commander wants to see you both, immediately,”

“What is going on?” I snap back, grumpy, rubbing the sleep my eye. 

“I can not say, but he is demanding you hurry,”

My sister and I hop from our beds, quickly following behind Deadeye as he escorts us. Striker is still following close behind us, looking no more awake than we are. His dark hair is messy and unkempt, heavy bags under his eyes. Did he even get a chance to sleep? The halls are completely empty as we rush, no signs of life anywhere. It must be early in the morning or possibly late at night. Deadeye guides us to the briefing room, again. 

The inside of the room has a projector up and running. Dr. Tyrant and Chief Shen seem to be arguing as we walk in, quieting down when they see our faces. The Commander and Officer Bradford cease their conversation. 

“Here they are, sir,” Deadeye states, ushering us in as Striker shuts the door. 

“Took you long enough,” Bradford comments. Turning away as he uses a remote to change the scene on the projector. 

Do these guys even sleep?

“We are sending you in as back-up, following our infiltration team and conflict engagements. You will be collecting any and all scientific evidence and bringing it back here. Including,” He pauses to change the screen. A young girl shows up, seemingly human. Her hair is as white as snow, eyes a bright almost neon purple. 

“...this young girl,”

“No way,” Xena immediately replies. “...we are not stealing ADVENT info and property for you,”

“Who is she?” I ask instead, curious. 

“She is a living specimen,” Dr. Tygan takes over. “...she is being experimented on. Has been, since she was a child. Very few children live to make it this long which makes me believe-“

“They are gene splicing,” Chief Shen states harshly. She turns to the Commander. “...there is no way of knowing what is going on with her. We could be leading ADVENT straight back here if we take her in. She could be telepathically connected to their entire network. She might not even know if she is broadcasting everything she sees or hears. It is a huge security risk—“

“And could also be a huge asset,” Dr. Tygan cuts her off. “...if they have gotten this far, developed this far- there is no telling what they may have already accomplished or could be developing, as we speak. The very existence of this child is- is remarkable,”

“Enough,” the Commander demands. “...I get it. Extract her and anyone else like her. Confiscate anything unusual or interesting while you are there. I want them starting from scratch,” he turns to look at me and my sister. 

“You two are able to navigate through the labs and easily spot anything of use. I want you in and out, straight through to extract and then straight out. Deadeye and Striker will accompany you,”

“No,” My sister begins, angry. “...we are not-“

“Are they hurting her?” I interrupt Xena. I can feel the harsh glare from her eyes on the side of my head. 

“She’s a child,” The Commander states blankly, almost cruelly. “...what do you think they are doing to her?”

I clench my jaw in response, glancing beside me to my sister. One look from me and she is sighing loudly, hands on her hips as she looks towards the ceiling in defeat. 

“Okay,” I reply, snapping back to the Commanders. “...but only if we find proof she is being harmed,”

“You want proof?” Chief Shen snaps, walking over to take the remote from Bradford. She switches the screen to the child tied down to a table, body littered with needles and hooked up to machines. I swallow my shame, looking away. 

“...that is what ADVENT is doing to her. Since she was a child,”

“I do not know why you are acting all high and mighty all of a sudden,” My sister spits back. “...you have done just the same. And not a moment ago you were just arguing to leave her there,”

“I was not arguing to leave her there,” Chief Shen snaps back. “...just not to this ship!”

“Enough!” The Commander silences the room. “...we do not have much time. If ADVENT has caught on they will be moving the child to a different location already. Deadeye, Striker- show the sisters to the armory. No weapons. I want all of you on the Skyranger in fifteen minutes,”

“Yes sir!” The two shout, quickly gathering us as we leave the room together. Our pace is fast as we briskly walk through the hall, the guards no longer accompanying us. We waltz through a pair of sliding doors, opening into a large room with multiple levels. The bottom floor is all armor. The second, from what I can see- a massive stockpile of guns. 

“We have armor that will fit you over here,” Deadeye states blankly, walking off to the right. The armor looks a lot like our ADVENT kind, though conceals a bit more. The colors are dark with next to no shine on them. 

“...we have some under armour to wear underneath, not bulletproof but will protect your arms and neck from small shrapnel, chemicals, fires… that kind of thing,”

“Thanks,” I respond quietly, pulling off the tank. Deadeye quickly turns away, embarrassed, walking over to his own locker and putting on the rest of his armor. 

“You really are not going to give us any weapons?” My sister grumbles, slipping on her helmet. 

“You are fucking hilarious,” Striker replies harshly, on the second floor grabbing weapons. 

“What if we need them?” My sister argues back. “...you expect us not to defend ourselves?”

“You should not need to defend yourselves, first off,” Deadeye butts-in. “..two different waves will be going in before us. We are basically the clean up crew while they are distracting,”

“It is hilarious you think something this simple, is going to work,” My sister taunts. 

“It’s hilarious you think ADVENT is fucking geniuses or something,” Striker cackles back, coming down the stairs. My sister and I glance at him fully equipped, memories of the battlefield flushing to the front of our minds. 

“Let’s move out,” Deadeye states, walking past us. 

“You know I always thought Striker was the leader,” I state, following behind the sharpshooter. 

“Yeah?” Deadeye replies blankly, focused on getting us to the Skyranger. 

“I am the leader,” Striker yells in response. 

“Then why are you groveling in the back?” My sister taunts with a smug grin. 

“I hope a bullet doesn’t accidentally find its way through your skull,” Striker threatens. 

“Likewise,” I snap back, locking my orange eyes with him as we enter the loading dock. We make haste to the ship, climbing on and finding purchase in a seat. The bridge closes and we take off. 

Everyone is quiet for the ride, nerves running. I glance at my sister who seems to be fine. She notices my stare, hand moving to interlock with my shaky one. This will be our second time on an active battlefield. 

I hope it is better than the first. 

We land on the top of a tall and large building, overlooking others around it. I can hear firefights all around, various other XCOM ships landing on the other buildings. When we exit the craft it is night time, the wind blows harshly against my scales. Striker takes the lead, breaking down the door to enter the staircase. My sister and I are in the back, following behind Deadeye. 

We walk down several flats of stairs before we reach the first door. I spot the label next to it, written in an alien language. 

“What’s this say?” Striker demands, pointing to it. 

“Offices,” I reply calmly. “...it is not the laboratories. Is that what we are looking for?”

“Yeah,” Deadeye responds. 

“I think we will have to go down much further,” I whisper. 

Striker silences the conversation, slowly making his way down the staircase. I can hear commotion on every floor, fighting and screaming with gunfire. I keep my tail poised for attack. Every floor he asks what the sign reads, none of them of real interest. We reach a floor labeled research two, and hesitate on going in. 

“Research sounds like a good place to look,” Deadeye whispers. 

“The girl was clearly in a lab,” Striker argues back, quietly. “...why would they bring her up to a researcher's floor?”

“Regardless, we should sweep through real quick. For evidence and samples,” He argues back. 

“We are here for the girl, that is it. In and then out,” Striker whispers back harshly. 

“They could have information on what they are doing to her, in there,” My sister chimes in, to my surprise. “...isn’t that what you wanna know anyway?”

The humans stare at her incredulously, before sighing. 

“Alright. Quickly,” Striker states, opening the door. 

Inside the place is in disarray. All the rooms have glass walls, making it easy to spot anyone else inside with us. I do not see any scientists or researchers, but do spot a room filled with what appears to be samples and machines. 

“What about over there?” I ask Deadeye, pointing to the room. 

“Go ahead and look, come right back,” He tells me, sniper at the ready as he scans the other rooms. He tosses me a bag from over his shoulder, to gather materials in. I slither through the rooms quietly to reach it, avoiding the bodies along the way. Several humans are among the dead, white trench coats soaked through with red blood. When I reach the room, I find a sectoid on the floor; unmoving. Its eyes seem still alive, though when I nudge it with my tail nothing happens. 

I spot a tray of vials on the table, scooping them up to putting in my bag. I grab the numerous papers laying next to it, unsure of what they actually say. A mini fridge sits under the table, it has a clear door showing a multitude of vials, in all sorts of colors. Each one is labeled with abbreviations. I empty it quickly, securing them in a small box I found in a room that has a lid. I walk around to the other side, briefly pulling out the cabinet drawers to find a large collection of folders and records. I can not tell what is important and what is not, grabbing several at random. That is in till my eyes land on a folder labeled Viper Males. 

“Anything?” Deadeyes asks, startling me. I grab the folder, stuffing it into my bag. “...I am not sure, just grabbing whatever,”

“Cool, let's move on,” 

“Okay,” I whisper back, following him. Through all the glass I spot my sister on a computer, typing furiously. 

“What is she doing?” Deadeye snaps at me, whistling to get Striker's attention, who is close by to my sister. The sharpshooter points at my sister and Striker begins to move. 

“I do not know. Maybe looking for files for the girl, on the computer? Might even say where she is in the building,” I offer in her defense. Striker yanks on my sister's arm, and my heart lurches in my throat. 

“Do not hurt her!” I holler, louder than I should. Striker freezes and locks eyes with me, letting go of her arm. Deadeye and I run over quickly. 

“Here,” my sister hisses, shoving the papers into Striker's chest. “...some info on your precious human and what floor she is on,”

“Oh…” Striker mutters bitterly. “...good. Let’s go,” 

I let the humans walk in front of us, grabbing my sisters arms lightly. 

“Are you okay?” I whisper, worried. 

“I am fine worry-wort,” She mumbles back at me, peeling off my hand. “...he thought I was doing some shady shit, I wasn’t,”

“Okay,” I whisper, following behind her. “...what did the info say,”

“They were right,” She replies, strangely calm. “...they have been injecting her with all kinds of stuff, since she was in the womb, basically. It would not really be accurate to even call her human anymore,”

“Really?” I rush out quietly. 

“Yeah,” my sister replies. “...and that is not even the crazy part,”

“What is the crazy part?” 

“...she fucking hates humans,” Xena laughs quietly. 

“Isn’t that bad… for us?” I quickly retort, glancing to the humans in front of us. 

“It is bad for them, maybe,” She shrugs, an excited grin on her face. “...guess we will get to watch and find out,” 

I am not sure I like the sound of that. 

“Where are we headed?” Deadeye asks as we descend more stairs. 

“...it looks like it's towards the thirteenth floor. They are keeping most of the children there, “ Striker replies, voice even. 

“You are welcome!” My sister hisses. Neither of them reply back to her, as we swiftly find out way down. 

When we hit the thirteenth floor, the sign outside is gone; crumpled into pieces on the ground. 

“That’s a great sign,” My sister comments sarcastically. I stifle a laugh as the two humans look back at us with deadpanned expressions. 

Striker opens the door slowly, creeping in. We follow just as slow, watching the surroundings for any movement. Unlike the research room, the glass walls are slightly opaque- making them hard to see through clearly. I can spot various shapes and coloring all around but it is too blurry to detect if they are children around

“Remember, white hair and purple eyes,” Deadeye whispers. 

We move slowly through each room, not really finding anything worthwhile. I find it odd that these are children’s rooms, no toys or colors of any kind. Each one looks nearly identical and hospitalized. While my sister and I didn’t grow up exactly wonderful, it's hard to imagine growing up here where everything feels so.. cold. 

“I think I just saw movement at the end,” Deadeye states calmly, nodding his rifle in the direction. I turn my head to see and spot tiny feet as they run into a different room. 

“Makes sense the kid is here,” Striker whispers. “...if something happened whoever they were moving here, this is the only place she would know,”

“Be cautious,” Deadeye replies coldly. “...we don’t know what’s going on,”

“I fucking know,” Striker growls back, slowly making his way through the hall. We hang back as he goes into the room, trying not to overwhelm the girl. He moves his way in slowly, spotting her immediately from the doorframe. 

“Hey,” I hear him whisper, in a soft voice I did not know he was capable of. “... we aren’t here to hurt ya,” he lowers his weapon, taking a small step forward. 

“...we came to take ya out of here. Away from this place,” Striker reaches out his hand, slowly. 

Then we watch him launch into the wall, shattering the glass in a glow of purple. 

“Shit,” Deadeye yells, sniper raised. “Striker?”

No answer. 

“Striker? You there?” I hear the sound of glass crunching as the ranger stands, coughing slightly. 

“Mm good…” He groans. I can hear the girl collect her power before I see it, warning the human. 

“Get out of the way!” I yell to the ranger. His eyes widen at my call, looking back behind him before rolling out of the way. The energy shatters the wall behind him. I move to go forward, but my sister holds me back. 

“Let them figure it out. It is not our problem,” She whispers to me. I rip myself from her hold, frowning at her. 

“Let me try,” I ask Deadeye. “...my sister said her file mentions she has… a distaste for humans,”

“I can’t let you do that,” Deadeye mumbles back to me. “...stand back, we will figure it out,”

“You’re going to get yourself hurt, she obviously has psychic abilities. You do not have enough manpower to take her without us,” Deadeye sighs harshly, frustrated. 

“Fine fine, hurry up,” He commands. I nod at him, slithering down the hall slowly. My sister tries to follow but Deadeye holds her back. 

“Hello?” I whisper, peeking my head around the door. I flatten my hood down to my neck, trying to appear less threatening. My eyes shift around the room, easily able to see in the darkness. Under the desk I spot a pair of glowing purple eyes, filled to the brim with fear. 

“Hello?” I try again, sinking low to the ground and I push into the room. “...My name is Asuna. I am a viper,” I state in the human tongue, awaiting a response. She makes no indication that she understands me, only pushing back against the wall as I inch forward. I pause, trying to think of something to lure her out. I coil into myself, trying to appear small and friendly. 

“Hello?” I will try again, this time in xeno. “...my name Is Asuna. I came to… rescue you, from these walls,”

“What?” The girl replies back quietly, in xeno, to my surprise. 

“Would you like to leave this place?” I ask lightly. 

“W-what about that man, with the gun,” She hesitantly asks, looking behind me. 

“He is a friend,” I lie. I can hear my sisters scoff, even from so far away. 

“You are friends? With a human?” She wonders, wiping a tear from her eye. 

“Yes,” I state simply, extending my hand. “...would you like to be my friend too?”

“No,” She states quickly, staring at my hand. “...I don’t like friends,”

“Oh,” I reply, unsure of what I was supposed to say. When I begin to pull my hand back, her small fingers grab at mine. 

“...but I want to leave,” she states fiercely, staring me down. I blink in amusement, a small grin spreading on my face. 

“...then I shall help you do that,” I reply, pulling her towards me. She willingly tucks herself under my chin for a moment, breathing deeply. I feel her shift when I begin to move, purple eyes coming up to peek over my shoulder. 

“Good job,” Deadeye whispers to me, eyeing the child. “...let's go back up to the roof and get out of here,” He turns back to find my sister gone. 

“Where did my sister go? I just heard her,” I quickly ask, eyes darting around. Striker joins us, walking up behind me. 

“I just saw her go into the stairway,” He snaps harshly, quickly stomping towards the door. Right when he opens it my sister appears in the doorway, locking eyes with me. 

“Where were you?” I snap. 

“I heard something in the hall,” She admits, using her tail to bring up the body of a sectoid. “...found this snooping,”

“And you killed it?” Deadeye asks, suspicious. 

“Obviously?” My sister snaps, tossing the body to the ground. I feel the child’s hands grip tightly on my shoulder. 

“Have to go,” The child whispers, arms wrapping tightly around my neck. “...momma is coming,”

“Who the fuck is momma?” My sister asks. 

“Let’s not find out,” I comment in return, rushing past them to begin climbing up the stairs. 

Once we start to ascend, we hear explosions coming for the lower floors. They grow louder quickly and I start to think we may not make it to the top before they reach us. 

“Take the child,” I yell to the humans. “...you can run faster than us, skipping steps,”

“Not gonna happen,” Deadeye states calmly, not even looking back. “...just focus on the stairs, don’t worry about the noises,”

“But—“

“Let’s fucking go!” Striker yells over me. “...we ain’t leavin you freaks behind so less thinking and more running!”

I am not sure if I should be flattered or insulted. 

Regardless of my fears, we do reach the roof again. The race to the ship is intense, I can hear the destruction of whoever is chasing us closing in. The ship begins taking off before I am all the way into the ship, my sister and Deadeye Pulling me up as we leave the ground. The door to the roofs blasts off its hinges while we are in the air, and I look down to see a shadowy figure with bright purple eyes roaring while we fly away. 

“Bye bye,” I hear the child mumble, fingers repeatedly touching her thumb like you would move a puppets mouth. The further up we go, the more destruction I see. How many buildings were a part of the ADVENT research center? How many were just civilians? 

“See?” My sister states low, void devoid of emotion as she watches the flames burn through the buildings. “...ADVENT isn’t the only one who destroys,”

“...mommy did that,” The girl mumbles back to us. “...she was mad,”

“What is she saying?” Deadeye asks, panting as he sits on the floor next to us. 

“She said that was her mommy,” I reply. He gives me a confused look

All I can do is give a confused look back. 

The following weeks pass in a blur of confusion. XCOM is a flurry of commotion since the girl is recovered. We spend the first week as normal, confined to our room. We leave to eat, to shower, and to help mediate between the girl and anyone who tries to talk to her. It takes a while to break through to her, get her to tell us her name. 

It ends up being a label. AD-18342

So they name her Addie. 

She is fascinated by everything around her, from the water fountains to the television. They make her a room fit for a child, toys and puzzles filled to the brim. She seems to enjoy them, for the most part, at first… but it quickly becomes obvious her intellect is greater than a normal child of her age. They begin by giving her books, testing her intelligence. Eventually she submits to the questioning, willing to wear the necklace they give her. 

The necklace translates for her, so I am no longer needed. I still visit when she asks me too though. 

The second week we get privileges. 

We get to leave our room for more than just to eat or shower. We get to have jobs, help around the ship. Even my sister seems excited about it, after being confined to a room for so long. I am excited too, in till they try to separate us. 

“...Asuna is more suited for the medical sector,” The Commander states calmly, as I stare him down.

“I want to go wherever Xena goes,” I argue back, bravely, hands on my hips. 

“Xena is going to the docking area. There is a lot more manual labor, patrolling, checking logs… that sort of thing,”

“And?? What do you think we did before this?” I state incredulously. 

“Calm down Asuna,” My sister laughs casually. I stare at her in disbelief. The last few weeks she has been acting carefree, no longer overly paranoid or untrusting. Every since that night in the research building, she seems to have mellowed out. 

“You are okay with them just separating us to completely different ends of the ship?? Since when have we ever done things separately??”

“He is right,” She replies uncharacteristically. “...you are suited for medical. Think of all the things you will learn. The people you will meet and help. You are wasting that huge overthinking brain of yours just doing mindless labor,”

“I think I should get to choose??” I snap back, looking at the Commander. 

“Ah. Choose. Look at you using your XCOM words,” The Commander taunts me with a small grin. “...I will tell you what, try it out for a little bit and if it is really that unbearable.. I will move ya. Okay?” I sigh heavily in response, looking away. 

“Alright, great,” 

The conversation ends, and I see less and less of Xena in the following weeks. We meet up at night to talk about our day, but most of the time our meals aren’t even eaten together anymore. Still, I do enjoy my time in medical. I work among the nurses patching all the soldiers that come in. At first the blood bothered me, so red and vibrant- very different from my own; but watching the appreciation bloom on their faces has made medical a home in my heart. 

Eventually we were even introduced to the rest of the ship, meeting other aliens for the first time. It felt like a whole world was opening up that I had never seen before. We ate dinners with newly made friends, friends who understood our struggles whether they were about ADVENT or our place among and with humans. 

As more weeks passed, I began to realize what was happening. 

I think my sister did too. 

We were leaving ADVENT. 

“Congratulations!” Deadeye laughs, clanging his cup into my own. “...you guys are finally official members,”

“Gross,” My sister comments, taking a small sip. Everyone laughs around the table. 

“Too bad Striker is not here to celebrate,” I chime in playfully. 

“You know how he is,” another soldier sighs, shaking his head. 

“Annoying?” My sister jokes. I laugh loudly in response, covering my mouth with my hand. 

“Oh come on. He acts all tough, but he really is a nice guy,” The nurse next to me giggles. 

“Nice? I would like to see that,” I reply. “...all I have seen is grouchy, angry, tired, and smug… maybe occasionally, my friend,”

“Yeah…” Deadeye sighs playfully. “...me too,”

“So since we are official members,” My sister begins. “...we should get to go on actual missions soon, yeah?”

“You have been on an ‘actual’ mission. We saved Addie, remember?” Deadeye comments with a grin. 

“Ugh yeah but that was...forever ago,” Xena groans, palm coming up to support her jaw on the table. “...I am so bored,”

“Eventually,” I tease my sister, patting her arm lightly. 

Months flow by shortly after that. I get promoted to field medic, while Xena gets stuck in the docks. We finally get free access to roam, without guards- though occasionally we do run into some trouble makers. My sister and I fight still, though less than before, when certain ADVENT news appears on the screen. She learns to quiet down and hold it in. I do not think my sister plans on leaving XCOM, especially without me; but, sometimes I think she gets frustrated listening to what she calls… propaganda. 

“I’m so tired of listening to the news,” Xena groans as we walk into our bedroom. 

“I know,” I reply easily. “...why don’t we just take some food to go for the next couple days? Give you a break?”

“That is not going to solve anything…” My sister grumbles, taking off her outer clothes. “...I’m just tired of the way everyone talks about ADVENT like they are supervillains. They have no idea what is going on,”

“The same way others have no idea what is actually going on at XCOM,” I counter. “...you need to look from the other perspective,”

“Yeah yeah…” She shoos me off, ending the conversation. 

“What about the Commander?” I ask, climbing into bed. My shift today in the medic sector has left me drained. 

“What about him?” She huffs back. 

“...did he give you the okay to join the scavengers?”

“Nope,” Xena hisses in frustration. 

“I’m sorry,” I offer, trying to console her emotions. 

“Don’t be, it isn’t your fault. I’m just tired of being stuck on this ship doing nothing. I want to travel, meet other bases.. like you do,”

“I wouldn’t really say I get to travel. I’m either on a ship or on the battlefield attending the wounded. Not meeting any fun people or seeing other XCOM bases. Just give it time—“ I state calmly, before being interrupted. 

“I’ve given it time!” She hisses loudly, angry. I watch her throw her clothes down onto the ground in frustration. “...I want to go on missions! Actual missions!”

I stay quiet while I let her vent. I can understand her frustration. After all, in ADVENT we were merely opposite. Xena was the prized peacekeeper everyone favored and I was just her tag along. 

“...maybe soon,” I said calmly. “..I’ll ask them if you can come with me next time I leave. Okay?”

“Would you really?” She asks, turning to me. 

“Of course, you’re my sister,” I reply smiling. Xena smiles back, laughing shortly after. 

I want it to stay like this forever.


	5. [ CHAPTER 2 ]

[ CHAPTER 2 ]

[ “italicized in quotes” = speaking in xeno ]

ASUNA POV

My body is heavy with defeat. 

My muscles ache and clench when I try to move them, slowly opening my eyes to see thick metal bars. My sister and I are laying on the floor of a dark cell. Cement floors and walls. I do not hear anyone in the immediate facility, but I know there are humans close by. They are always so loud in their conversations, voices echoing easily. 

Looking down at my sister with groggy eyes, I notice her abdomen in white bandages. The wound appears to be clean and tidied. Her armor has been removed, but the thin crop top we wear underneath remains. I hesitantly run my fingers over the bandages, examining for other injuries. She breathes evenly as she sleeps, no cold sweats, no tossing and turning. Whatever they did to her, fortunately helped- instead of hurting her. 

For that I am eternally in their debt. 

“Hello?” I speak in xeno, loudly through the bars. I do not expect a single human on this ship to understand me- but I hope the commotion will lead them to my cell. My stomach aches for food. My scales cold to the touch. We cannot sit in this cold and dark cell for too long, before our bodies react negatively. My sister may be settled, for now, but continued environments like this will only lead to her demise anyway. 

“Hello!” I holler again, pulling at the bars. They seem to bend easily. A fact I store away for later when my sister is fully healed and able to escape with me without hindrance. They must not be used to having alien prisoners. 

“Quiet down,” An old man approaches from a hall. He wears the normal uniform I see on XCOM members, his grey beard wiry and shaggy. His eyes look tired and frustrated, wrinkles all around. Large bifocal glasses sit on the bridge of his nose. 

“...it's too late at night for you to be hollering like a banshee. Go to sleep,” 

I tilt my head to the side, pretending like I could not comprehend a word he just said. 

“You look old and decrepit,” I state in xeno, flaring my hood in and out. “...strange they place such a weakling as a guard for two vipers,”

“Sorry, I have no idea what you're saying,” the old man grumbles, throwing his hands about. “...you're gonna have to wait till morning when they come by to change your dressin’,”

With a curt curse from his lips he turns away, abandoning us to the cold cells again. 

Analyzing our surroundings, I do not spot anything useful or out of the ordinary. This room of cells is barbaric and freezing. All the cells across from us are empty of life forms. It seems ADVENT was right about taking prisoners...but then again, why did they take us from the field? Why didn’t they let us die?

The sharpshooter.

I find it hard to believe he has such pull within the organization, afterall he did not even appear to be the leader of their squad. Still, my mind drifts to the reasons for captivity...and continuously lands on experimentation. 

I hear my sister roll over behind me, groaning in her sleep as her tail coils around herself to keep warm. My jaw clenches at the sight, desperation clawing in my chest. I need to figure out a way out of here. When my sister is well and ready, we will need to flee- and not a second later. XCOM may be playing nice right now but I do not believe it will last very long… not without us giving something in return. 

The stories from ADVENT media often haunt me, but given my current situation… they are derailing my thoughts. All I can think about while staring at the soft rises of my sister's chest, is needles and exam tables. The cries of agony from the torture videos, as scales were peeled from vipers bodies. I shiver in fear, adrenaline coursing through my veins and keeping me from falling into slumber again. I curl into my sister for warmth and comfort. My eyes stay open for hours, tracing the shapes of her scales, snapping to the slightest flicker of shadows… in till sleep finally clouds my mind, drowning out the paranoia. 

I awake early for what I assume is the next morning. The footsteps above our cell are much more pronounced, more frequent. I can see the light shine at the stop of the staircase, when the door opens and a man walks in. He is dark skinned with no hair, a slim pair of spectacles on his face. He carries a clipboard with him, a medic bag in the other as he descends the stairs. I stare at him menacingly, coiled around my sister with wide orange eyes. He pauses a distance from our cell, tilting his head while analyzing us. 

“So you are awake finally, that's good,” He begins, hesitating moving further. 

“You didn’t bring any backup?” I question, narrowing my eyes. I am sure I appear menacing in the darkness of this cell, orange eyes gleaming in suspicion. 

“I was under the impression you were desperately wanting to save your sister. Is that no longer the case?” He offers back calmly. I swish my tail in consideration, tilting my head curiously. Does he understand xeno, or merely stating a response?

“I would like my sister to be healed, yes. Blankets too, if possible. The cold will only inhibit her from healing properly,” I supply back, uncurling from her. 

“I will look into the blankets, but do not hopefully,” He replies back to me with ease. I watch him move towards the door of our cell, depositing the medical bag onto the floor while he fetches keys from his coat pocket. The metal key unlocks the door with a loud clunk, screeching as it pulls open. He strolls into our confinement with ease, crouching by our sisters to analyze her wound. 

“She is healing nicely, all things considered,” He states, unwrapping her bandages. I look away from the wound, eyes drifting to the door he has left open behind him. 

“If you want to escape, feel free. I will not stop you,” He mutters quietly, focused on his work. “...do not be surprised to find several troops waiting for you in the hall however,”

“Predictable,” I offer back coldly, arms crossing over my chest as I slump against the cement wall. 

“Yes well. We could have left you both to die,” He replies with ease, opening the medical bag to pull out a bottle and some antiseptic wipes. “...I have already removed the bullet and stitched the wound, but it needs to stay clean to prevent infection,”

I do not reply to the doctor, eyes drifting towards his hand as I watch him gently wipe away the fuzzing liquid he poured, holding it over her wound for several minutes. He repeats this process until the liquid no longer bubbles. The wipes are stained a yellow color when he is done, small amounts of blood still seeping through the edges of her stitches. 

“Are you surprised we took you in and showed you mercy?” He asks quietly, putting away the supplies to pull out a large sheet. He pulls a clear film from the top layer, pressing it directly onto my sister's wound after. 

“It is still yet to be determined if this is considered to be mercy,” I replied harshly, watching in awe as he pulls the back layer of the sheet off to reveal a clear, see through film pressed over my sister's wound. He still pulls out another bundle of bandages, gently wrapping them around her abdomen. 

“What are you predicting is going to happen?” He asks back, securing the bandages with a small pin. 

“Torture. Manipulation. Experimentation. Any other war tactic that yields information to lord over your enemies,” I whisper harshly, my tired eyes jumping to my sisters face. 

“Ah, I see,” He responds in kind, gathering up his mess and closing the medical bag. He then picks his clipboard off the floor, writing quickly on the paper attached to it. 

“What are you writing?” I inquire, nervously in xeno. 

“Just what I am observing from her wound,” He states blankly, without emotion. 

“And what are you observing?” is my next response, curiosity and worry grating at my nerves. 

“The injured Viper, unnamed, is showing signs of great improvement. Though her body temperature feels lower than what she was brought in with. Blood is minimal from the wound, showing slight infection. Applying general antiseptic along with a layer of Second Skin, followed with bandages to keep the area free from outside debry and warm. The second viper, also unnamed, is awake and talkative though untrusting. Seems to be very wary of their surroundings, would be cautious of an attack,” The doctor finishes, adjusting his glasses as he scribbles onto his clipboard a bit more. 

I watch him finish his work quietly. 

“I shall be back in a couple days to check on the wound. Try your best to stay warm,” He offers to me, standing and walking towards the door. I watch him close the loud gate slowly, locking it again with ease. 

“Her name is Xena,” I mumble quietly, uncertain. The doctor pauses looking at me between the thick metal bars. “...and my name is Asuna,”

“I am Doctor Tygan,” He replies with a curt nod, walking away. I watch his footsteps all the way up the stairs, the light seeping into the room for a brief moment before the door closes behind him. 

I let out a sigh I did not realize I was holding, head lolling to stare at the rise and fall of my sister's chest. 

So this is our life now. 

XENA POV

My eyes flutter open slowly, blurred images clearing after I adjust my eyes. I awake in an empty cell, cement my personal company. I slowly rise from the ground with my arms, analyzing my surroundings. My sweet sister is nowhere to be found, thick metal bars keeping me prisoner. 

Looking down, my hands run along the bandages of my abdomen. The pain is mostly bearable as I move, sitting up under the blankets. I glance to my side to spot another makeshift bed, scattered blanket and a single pillow on the cement floor. I assume my sister used to inhabit the area. My own bed is littered with blankets. My gaze softens at the realization. My sister must have given me her own blankets to keep me warm. 

A loud clunk catches my attention, my eyes immediately moving to the sliver of light that breaches the darkness. From the door my sister slithers inside, her hands bound by a chain. She is escorted by two XCOM soldiers. Furry burns in my gut at the sight. 

When they reach the entrance of my cage, I watch my sisters eyes widen in excitement. The guards pause unlocking the door, noticing my orange gaze glowing against the darkness. 

“Stand down,” The one unlocking the door states, loud and booming. 

“Go fuck yourself,” I hiss in xeno, tail coiling tightly. My sister laughs in response, causing the guards to look back at her with uncertainty. 

“Just let them go sister, we have much to discuss,” She smiles back at me, nodding her head to the guards. A brief moment of tension passes, before they continue unlocking the cage. My sister slithers back in willingly, turning back to face them so they may unshackle her wrists. They swiftly close the cell door behind them, locking it and hurrying towards the exit. My sister waves goodbye at them like they are lost children, and I tilt my head in confusion. 

“Sister?” I question, shoulders releasing the tension I was holding. “...what is going on?”

“We have been captured by XCOM,” She replies simply, slithering to her bed and covering herself with the blanket. 

“I have gathered that much!” I hiss sarcastically, causing my body to flinch in pain. I wince an eye closed, my sister giving me a worried expression. 

“They are the ones that patched up your wound so that you may live,” She whispers, tailing coiling around herself. “...you would have died if they had not taken us in,”

“We are going to die anyway!” I huff back at her, laying down into my own bed. “...do you think they healed me out of the goodness of their hearts? Have you learned nothing of their destruction?”

“I know,” She replies to me quietly. 

“Where did they take you?” I ask, eyes running over the scales of her face. “...you do not seem injured,”

“They actually took me to eat,” She replies, unsure. My eyes widen in response, surprised by the action. 

“To eat? Where did you go?” 

“It was like their cafeteria, basically. I saw a bunch of other members there eating as well,” she responds, looking down onto the floor. “...the food was pretty good and-”

“They let you eat in the cafeteria??” I hiss harshly, interrupting her with anger. “...someone could have killed you there! What were they thinking??”

“That I needed to eat?” My sister huffs, in their defense. “...they had me eat with some guards to make sure nothing happened.. They did not have to do that,”

“Are you defending them?” I ask in disbelief, glaring at my sister. “...are you serious? Some food and you will just roll over and show your belly?”

“It is not like that Xena, and you know it,” She snaps back at me, quietly. Asuna sighs heavily after, rolling over in her bed. 

“You are just gonna roll away from me?” I huff, incredulously. 

“No Xena, I just do not want to over stress you right now. Your body is weak. I do not want you sleeping for a long period of time again,” She mutters quietly. 

For a moment I am taken aback, suddenly remembering the battlefield with vivid details. The hopelessness I felt watching my normally, passive, sister try to be strong. I sigh out my frustrations, my abdomen quivering in pain. I remember calling out to her, hand outstretched to grab hers before looking down at the hole in my abdomen. 

“I am sorry,” I speak lowly, staring at the diamond shapes her scales form on her neck. “...I do not understand how you convinced them to help us, but I am thankful to be alive with you again,” 

“I am not even sure how I convinced them myself,” I hear her whisper back. “...they have not asked for anything yet. I have seen no Commanders, no other aliens… we have been in this cell the entire time. A single doctor as a visitor. I was allowed to start leaving for food a week ago, and you have been asleep for nearly fourteen days. I managed to persuade them into giving us blankets but-”

“Do not ask them for anymore favors Asuna,” I state harshly. “...they will try to take back double whatever it is they are owed,”

“If that is the case, then how am I supposed to repay them for saving my dear sisters life?” She argues back at me in frustration. I do not know how to answer her. The truth will only hurt her feelings. 

She should have just let me die on that field. 

“We will just have to figure a way off this ship,” I reply, shifting in my bed to lay on my back. “...a way to get back home,”

“If they even take us back,” Asuna responds cryptically. 

I stare angrily at the ceiling in frustration. My sister has changed in the timeframe of my slumber… I worry for her safety. Sleep comes for me quickly, much to my frustration. I count the cracks in the ceiling as my eyelids settle, my thought whirling through plans of escaping. 

I just need one opening. 

The next morning Asuna wakes me with a gentle shake, relief blooming across her face when I open my eyes to her orange ones. 

“I was worried you would not awake again,”

“I will always wake, for now on,” I reply confidently, sitting up while clenching my abdomen. I feel my stomach rumble, vibrating the ache in my stitches. 

“I’ll ask them to take you with me when we go to eat today,” My sister whispers, helping me rise completely. 

“They take you everyday?” I ask, astonished. 

“Yes. I even get to choose what I eat,” She smiles. 

“...how strange,” I mutter back, suspicious. 

“You think they are baiting me?” Asuna questions, looking out our cell bars to the door at the top of the steps. 

“Of course,” is my reply, filled with certainty. “...there is no other reason to be nice to you. Like you said, you have seen no other aliens. Why would they suddenly take in two if it wasn’t to interrogate them?”

“Then why did they bother healing you? Why didn't they just threaten to kill you to make me talk?”

“Because you already knew I was going to die. You would have just died next to me,” I respond, dread filling my chest at the thought of my sister alone to face the wolves. 

“I am not so sure…” Asuna whispers honestly. 

“You spend a week eating with a couple guards, and suddenly for-go all the information we know about them? All the horrific acts of war they have committed against defenseless women and children?” I hiss, frustrated. “...have you forgotten everything our den mother described to us?”

“No,” she offers in response, looking me right in the eyes. I sense a streak of defiance in her I have never noticed before. 

“Then what is it you see?” 

“I want you to see it first,” my sister replies vaguely, tilting her head. “There is a television that plays when we eat. It shows news, broadcasted through the whole confederation,” I scoff loudly, leaning back on my arms. 

“So you’ve been brainwashed,” I state blankly, devoid of emotion. “...That’s fine, after we get off this ship you will realize everything they said is lies. Do not watch the television any further. Their media just manipulates the truth in their image,” 

My sister looks uncertain, but nods her head at me. 

“You are right, like always,” 

“Good,” I chuckled, sitting back up. “...what time does the guards usually come for meals?”

“I am not exactly sure...it isn’t for many hours after I awake,” 

“Do they have cameras in here?” I ask, looking at the corners of our cell. 

“Not that I have spotted, though I do suspect they use some sort of life detector,” She answers, bracing her cheek with her hand. “...it has been especially boring the last two weeks,”

“I can imagine…” I trail off, searching the room. “...but I am here now to keep you company, like I always do,”

“Yeah,” My sister says softly, cuddling close to me. “...I hope we get out of here soon,” She mutters quietly, so much so that I have a hard time hearing her myself. 

“Me too Asuna,” I whisper in return. 

ASUNA POV

Some time later the guards finally open the door at the top of the stairs. I eagerly await their descent down to us, excited to show my sister the food they may have at the court. Among them this time, however, are faces I have not seen in awhile… faces I was hoping to not have to see again. 

Deadeye and the squad leader. 

“Hello,” The sharpshooter greets us outside the cell doors. He stands awkwardly, a hand in his pocket while the other rubs the back of his neck. Beside him is the squad leader, taller and angry. His arms are crossed over his chest, his dark eyes suspicious. 

“Go fuck yourself,” I hear my sister spit in xeno behind me. I blink several times, trying not to laugh and keep my composure. 

“Hello,” I reply to them in the common tongue for humans. They wear standard combat clothes I've seen on others around the cafeteria, a pistol strapped to their leg. 

“You can call me Deadeye. This is Striker,” The sharpshooter states in a friendly manner, hand motioning to the man beside him. “...we are here to escort you guys today. Y'all hungry?”

“They are going to kill us,” My sister hisses behind me, her tail curling around the tip of my own. “...we cannot go with them,”

“What’s that bitch saying now?” Striker demands angrily. I hear Deadeye sigh dramatically, a hand coming up to rub his forehead. 

“Sorry about him, He’s just-” Deadeye begins politely. 

“I don’t like aliens,” Striker interrupts the sharpshooter. “...specially aliens that tried to fucking kill me,”

“Ah yes, Sorry about that,” I mutter back, trying to sound as fluent as I could. “...you could say my sister feels the same way,” I give them a sarcastic smile, titling my head while pulling my cobra hood down against my neck. 

“I’ll break his fucking legs if he comes in here,” My sister hisses, rising to her full height. “...they got some fucking confidence if they think they can take two vipers hand to hand,”

The room is silent for a moment, tense and awkward. 

“And what was that?” Deadeye asks respectfully, though his eyes are serious and guarded. 

“She is worried about your intentions,” I summarize, almost diplomatically. “...will be happy to break your legs if your try to do us harm,”

“I’ll be happy to leave you freaks in there to fucking starve!” Striker yells in anger, scoffing before walking away. “...lets go Deadeye,”

“That is not how this works Striker,” Deadeye sighs exasperated. He locks eyes with me. “...we are not planning to do anything. Just escorts to eat, like all the other times,”

“You promise?” I reply quickly, tongue slipping between my lips to taste the air for his deceit. Deadeye watches me closely before nodding, his partner scoffing angrily. 

“I promise. Can your sister walk yet?” I look back to my sister who crosses her arms over her chest, looking away from me. 

“Yes, she should be fine,” I respond, stepping back from the cell bars. Deadeye nods to one of the guards with him, they move forward to unlock the door. 

“Why don’t you tell your sister how this works,” Deadeye offers, eyeing my sister suspiciously. 

“I already did,” I inform him. The guard opens the door, signaling me to put my arms through the cuffs. I do so without complaint, walking out the cell and standing beside Deadeye. My sister remains at the back of our cell, eyes suspiciously moving back and forth between everyone. 

“It is okay sister, be nice,” I speak to her, trying to be comforting. “...we will get to eat if you follow along,”

“You know they are gonna kill us right? Maybe not today…” She responds, slithering to the front of the cell and repeating the same motions as I did. “...but they will eventually kill us,”

“Maybe,” I reply, shrugging. “...but today, we eat,”

“See? Was that so hard?” Deadeye states, hands on his hips as he stands in front of us with a small smile. Neither my sister or I respond, and he sighs lightly before turning around. We follow them both up the stairs, my excitement rising in my chest. Everytime I venture to the open part of the ship, my heart soars with relief. The smell of fresh air, food and sheer life always relaxing me… if only for a moment. 

“Nice to see lights again,” My sister comments from behind me. Deadeye leads us in the front, Striker in the back. On either side of us are two guards, decked in full armor. They all carry some form of weapon. We pass by many faces, all curious… a lot fearful. 

“Half of these assholes have never even seen aliens before, have they?” My sister comments, no doubt terrorizing half the troops with her gaze as they walk by. 

“I think it’s natural to be afraid of something that is encroaching on your home,” I respond, trying to smile at some of the troops. It seems to frighten them more. 

“Where are we?” Xena asks. 

“I am not sure,” Is my response. We are walking through many hallways, most without windows; but, when you do catch a glimpse of the outside all you can see is the dark void of space. Obviously, we are on a ship. ADVENT has a record of many ships belonging to XCOM...but just from the walk I can tell this one rather large. I do not remember reading about XCOM having any large vessels at their disposal. 

“Here we are,” Deadeye states, arms stretching wide like he is presenting the cafeteria in a show. “..why don’t you show your sister around Asuna?”

“You told them our names??” My sister hisses at me. I snap my head back to her to give her a stern look, but she merely squints her eyes at me in return. Her orange irises follow my wrists as the guard unlatches my chains, letting me move freely. He moves towards my sister cautiously. 

“Don’t do anything stupid Xena, I really am hungry,” I say to her, watching closely as her tail swishes back and forth at the end. She lets the guard unlatch her cuffs, immediately slithering next to me. 

“Let me show you where we start,” I state in the human language, dragging my sister by the arm to the start of the cafeteria line. The guards have cleared the line ahead of time, one standing at the beginning, two throughout the line, and the last one at the end. 

Before us are various entrees and side dishes. The line has more human food than I have ever seen if I am being honestly. One of the strange things I noticed early though, is the distinct lack of meat. 

“Where is the good stuff?” My sister grumbles. “...I thought all humans ate was straight meat. The humans in our cities won’t stop eating the ADVENT burgers,”

“Evidently, not,” I offer back, filling my plate. “...I haven’t seen meat yet,”

“I guess at least it's not the alien sludge…” My sister comments. “...we get to actually chew this food,”

“Exactly,” I reply, smiling lightly. 

When we reach the end we are escorted to our own table in the back of the room. The tables next to use have been cleared. We sit facing the cafeteria, watching the humans as they cautiously grab their own food and sit down. 

“Taste okay?” Deadeye asks, standing by our table. 

“Yes,” I reply politely. My sister does not respond, just glares. 

They should be getting used to it by now. 

“That’s good. Let me know when you're done,” He replies, almost friendly. I watch him take his seat at the table next to ours, no food in front of him. He slouches against the table, just watching the rest of the cafeteria like we do. 

I sip slowly on the water provided, watching the humans interact and laugh with each other. ADVENT has always portrayed humans as a serious bunch. Their only goals are the destruction of ADVENT and the annihilation of any aliens races they come in contact with. Yet, sitting here watching them act so carefree… I almost feel a pit of envy in my chest. 

“Look at them,” My sister states aggressively. “...they are just sitting there happy as can be. Don’t even care about all the aliens they are causing to suffer. All the creatures they kill. The supplies they just robbed from helpless citizens,” She scoffs after, dropping her fork onto her now empty tray. 

“How are you holding up?” I ask her. “...this is your first time eating since you have been wounded,” 

“I feel fine,” is her quick reply, trying to curb my worry. “...better question is, did you even see anywhere to escape? I barely even saw any doors from the walk here,”

“No,” I quickly reply, eyes darting to Deadeye and Striker to see if their attentions are peeked by our conversation. They still show now signs of understanding us. 

“...honestly, I think they walk us in small circles to throw off the distance,” I admit. 

“That would be smart I suppose,” My sister replies, holding her head up with her palms on her cheeks. “..so when do they take us back?”

“Usually right after I finish, but they have not commented on it yet,” is my response, curiosity in my tone. 

“What are they waiting for?”

“I do not know,” I reply, shifting my attention to Deadeye. 

“...excuse me? We are finished now, thank you for the food,” I try to be polite. 

“Awesome!” He replies with a small friendly smile. “...sit tight for a bit, Dr. Tygan wants to come and chat,” My orange eyes widen at the name, nodding in response. 

“Who is that?” My sister asks. 

“The doctor who saved you,” I replied quickly, searching the crowd for him. 

“Here we fucking go…” She mutters defensively. 

“Calm down,” I retort. “...we don’t know what he wants, yet,”

“He’s gonna ask us to betray ADVENT. He has been waiting this whole time. If he thinks I am just gonna roll over and be a good little pet snake, he has another thing coming,” Xena hisses her discomfort, hood flaring. The guards immediately notice, watching us carefully. I sigh heavily in response. 

We chat idly to each other as we wait for the doctor to arrive. Humans come and go through the cafeteria. I am not complaining much about the wait, it is nice to sit in the clean and open air. Nice to sit in the lights and almost chat normally, like we aren’t being held captive. 

“Asuna? Xena?” Dr. Tygan’s voice cuts through my thoughts as he approaches our table, holding his clipboard in his hand. I am starting to think it is a permanent fixture to his uniform. 

“Hello,” I reply calmly. My sister remains quiet beside me, eyeing the doctor suspiciously. 

“How are you doing today?” The doctor asks politely, taking his seat at our table. 

“How do you think we are doing?” My sister hisses, resting his cheek on her palm. “..bored. Held Captive. Might be murdered or experimented on. Sold for parts. Who really knows,”

“We are fine,” I sigh heavily, rubbing my face in embarrassment. Dr. Tygan raises a brow at my sister, but says nothing else. 

“I came to offer you a proposition,”

“Called it,” Xena scoffs. 

“What kind of proposition?” I ask, giving my sister a look. 

“We will offer you… better room and board with access to your own bathroom. You will be closely monitored, of course. You will not be allowed to leave your room, similar situation as the cell block. But you will have an improved quality of life,” The doctor adjusts his glasses, waiting for my reply. 

“But?” I respond, hesitantly. “..what do you want from us?”

“Information. Nothing more,” He replies, folding his fingers together over his clipboard. 

“What kind of information?” I ask immediately, without worry. 

“Are you kidding me Asuna? What are you doing??” My sister hisses, hand grabbing my arm to pull me towards her. 

“If you don’t wanna say anything, then just be quiet,” I huff in response to her. “...this is better for us. What if it's something simple?” 

“It would save lives, if that helps you feel better,” Dr. Tygan interrupts. “...We are moving a civilian group to a safer location. This group is almost entirely women and children. We are just asking you to look at some photos, let us know if anything looks suspicious. We have been tipped off to possible traps,”

“He can understand what we are saying?” My sister asks harshly, staring the doctor down. 

“Yes,” I reply in the human tongue, shaking her arm off. “...I’d be happy to look at some photos for you,”

“I really do not think we should sister,” Xena interrupts me. “...If the council finds out-”

“They will probably kill us anyway, regardless,” I reply back quietly. I listen as Dr. Tygan unclips a folder from his clipboard, passing it to me on the table. 

“These are the pictures,” He states simply, as I open the flap. My sister's scaly hand slams down on the first picture, echoing loudly through the cafeteria. The commotion makes several of the guards look our way. Groups of humans seem to stop what is going on, the tension in the room skyrocketing. 

“Don’t,” My sister aggressively pleads. “You don’t know if these are actually civilians. They could be lying. You could be letting a squad of soldiers through,”

“I have included some pictures of the families moving, if that helps you come to a decision,” Doctor Tygan chimes in, patiently. 

“You’d rather I’d let possible civilians die?” I argue back, frustrated. “...How would you feel if the roles were reversed?”

“This is not a hypothetical,” Xena hisses at me. “You are betraying ADVENT for XCOM,”

“I am helping save innocent lives,” I snap back. 

“XCOM lives,” My sister bites back. 

“Does that make them not innocent??” I yell, cobra hood flaring. “..are you listening to yourself?”

“Why don’t you keep the folder? Take it back with you and you may..discuss your issues further,” The doctor offers. My sister's hood flares as wide as mine, our opinions clashing harshly. 

“No need,” I state viciously in the human tongue. Gripping my sister's wrist, I pull her hand from the folder; staring her down. She hisses as disagreement, but does not interfere further. 

Opening the folder, the first image is groups of humans walking through a field. I spot many children playing along the side of the image. I push the image towards my sister, who vehemently looks away to stare at the wall. The next images are of various mountain ranges, slender paths and a thick forest in the distance. I recognize the area vaguely. 

“I am not sure honestly,” I admit, moving back and forth between the pictures. I pick out one of the slender paths leading up the mountain, a vague memory of a boulder trap stuck in my mind. 

“...If I went with my gut, I’d say beware paths like this one,” I point to the area in the picture. “...mountains are dangerous. They have a tendency to have sliding cliffs. Slipping boulders. Crumbling rocks… that sort of thing,”

I try to remain vague, my sister's words echoing in my mind. 

“...instead of looking for obvious markings, I would try to look for natural accidents,” I mumble quietly, pushing the folder away. “...at least, that is what I think,”

I am surprised when my sister's hand comes down to stop the folder. She quickly pushes the top photos away, picking up a picture of a path leading into a dense forest. 

“Do you have a pen?” She asks aggressively. Dr. Tygan hands him one from his coat pocket, clicking it open for her. She quickly circles two spots on the picture, I eye the vague shapes in the shadows of the forest. 

“...look for clues like these. You will not be able to see them from far away. In thick forests, there will be hidden figures made of sticks propped in the trees of entrances whose paths will have pits in them. Falling in them will alert the closest collection squad,” 

My eyes widen at the information. I had not known anything about those. I wonder where she learned it from. 

“Thank you, both of your intels are incredibly helpful,” Dr. Tygan replies, collecting the folder. “...you will return to the cell block for now. After we have successfully moved our group to a safe location, I will reach back out,”

“Unlikely,” My sister grumbles. 

“Alright,” I respond politely. “...could we possibly get a shower though? Please?” I ask the doctor. 

He blinks at us for a moment, before I catch the rarest and tiniest of smiles. 

“I will see what I can do,” He simply states, turning away. 

The guards quickly escort us back to our cell. Securing the lock with a final clunk, I look back through thick metal bars, slightly disheartened. 

“Hey,” Deadeye says, catching my attention. 

“Lets go Deadeye,” Striker grunts, already walking away. “...they aren’t worth the time,”

“Sorry,” Deadeye mumbles, running a hand through his hair. “...Thanks for helping us out. You saved a lot of lives… I hope they move ya somewhere comfier,” He eyes look sad and regretful as he walks away. I briefly wonder why. 

“Humans are so emotional,” My sister comments, rolling her eyes. 

“Maybe he is sorry for shooting you,” I offer back, watching as the door at the top of the stairs shuts behind him. 

“Humans aren’t sorry for anything,” My sister replies sourly, immediately crawling under her blankets, turning away from me. 

I am not so sure about that.


	6. [ CHAPTER 3 ]

[ CHAPTER 3 ]

[ “italicized in quotes” = speaking in xeno ]

ASUNA POV

“Rise and shine, freaks!” Strikers booming voice interrupts my slumber, triggering my sense of defense. My cobra hood spreads wide in irritation. I hiss my discomfort loudly. 

“Striker!” I hear Deadeye holler, rushing down the steps. “...you didn’t have to wake them like that,”

“Why not? We wake our own like this, they don’t get special treatment,” Striker argues, kicking the metal bars of our cells with thick black combat boots. The bars rattle very loudly, grating our nerves. 

“Can you fuck all the way off, already?” I hear my sister hiss, rising to her full height as she smacks the metal bars with the back of her tail. Striker steps back cautiously, though he wears a wide smug grin. 

“Oh? Did I ruin your beauty sleep?” He cackles, hand reaching into his pocket to pull out a pair of keys. He jingles them in front of us, taunting. “....you better be good and nice, or i’ll leave you in there to rot- hey!” 

He gets interrupted by Deadeye, who swipes the keys from his hand. 

“That is why you don’t get to hold the keys,” Deadeye snaps, eyes narrowing. “...you think it's wise to piss off two vipers, at close range?”

“I aint fucking scared of some overgrown snakes,” Striker bites back, dark eyes locking with my orange ones, staring me down. 

“You should be! I’ll crush your thin spine in half!” My sister roars, baring her elongated fangs. I slither in front of her body, to block her from view. 

“Yeah? Are you wearing your hazmat vest right now? No?” Deadeye begins to lecture his squadmate. “... Okay what about your nanoscale vest then? Surely, you wouldn’t taunt vipers who can spit venom up to like.. ten feet away from them, without your vest? right?” Striker's face grows red in anger. The ranger scoffs while walking away a good distance, arms crossing over his chest dramatically in defeat. 

Deadeye sighs heavy in frustration, standing in front of our cell with his hands on his hips. 

“Anyway,” He mumbles. “...sorry about that,”

“Do you need something?” I snap back harsher than I mean too, irritated. “...or did the block-head just come down here to vent some stress?”

“Block head??” Striker hollers. I watch as Deadeye snaps his head back at him, glaring harshly. The ranger quiets back down, grumbling under his breath. 

“Yes,” The sharpshooter finally replies, turning back to me. “...Dr. Tygan got the okay to let you go shower up. Forewarning, we do have a time limit though. Afterwards-”

“How long?” I interrupt him, slithering close to the metal bars. Deadeye blinks rapidly at me, surprised by my interruption. 

“Uhh...it's about fifteen minutes. So anyway-”

“Fifteen minutes? Practically luxury,” My sister hisses with a grin. To the humans I am sure she sounds angry, but she is just as excited as I am. 

“I hope their soap smells nice. The humans on the field never smell very good,” I reply back to my sister, the tip of my tail slowly swishing back and forth. “...maybe even some lotion?”

“Is there a problem?” Deadeye asks, clearing his throat. 

“No. My apologies. What were you about to say?” I reply, as polite as I can.

“After your shower, we are to bring you both to the briefing room,” Deadeyes states, professionally. 

“The briefing room?” I inquire. “...why?”

“The Commander would like to speak to your both,” the sharpshooter replies. My blood runs cold. 

“The Commander??” My sister hisses behind me, surprised. “...we are either going to die or be forced to join them. Those are the only outcomes,”

“Shut up,” I hiss back at her in frustration. I hear the key slot in the lock of the cell door, the metal creaks as it opens wide enough to let us out. 

“Where are the handcuffs?” I ask, waiting to be allowed out.

“We are trying without handcuffs today,” He replies simply, smiling at me. I hear Striker scoff, commenting under his breath in the distance. 

“They are so fucking stupid,” My sister laughs, slithering up next to me. “...We can take them,”

“And do what?” I reply quickly, returning Deadeyes smile and slowly leaving the cell. “...we are on a ship, in space. Where exactly do you plan to go?”

I watch my sister follow my lead. Striker leads in front of us as we go up the stairs, Deadeye in back behind my sister. 

“I am sure they have small vessels that leave this ship. Maybe even emergency vessels,” Xena responds as we exit the door at the top of the stairs. When we move into the hallway, we notice the guards have increased in number. All of them hold a large stun baton, a stun gun also holstered to their hips with their normal pistol. I give my sister a sarcastic look. 

“...we could still take them,’” She huffs back at me as we follow Striker through the halls.

The walk to the showers is shorter than the walk to the cafeteria. We pass by several halls along the way, where I spot more activity at the end of them. When we pause at the opening to the showers, a guard goes in first to check for others. 

“I feel bad, clearing everyone out first…” I mumble to my sister. 

“Oh well. They can take a shower whenever they want,” My sister replies, unbothered. 

We wait patiently as other women exit slowly over time. Eventually the showers are clear, and we are given the go ahead to go in. Xena practically runs into the door, without looking back. 

“Here is some soap and stuff. We included some tank tops for you as well,” Deadeye states, handing me a small bag. “...we are giving you twenty minutes total, fifteen for the shower and five to dry off and dress. I’ll be coming in to get you at the time,”

“Alright,” I respond simply, taking the items from him and following my sister in. 

The inside of the showers are damp and warm. All the mirrors are fogged over as I pass them. I find my sister already under the warmth of the water, two showers running simultaneously over her scales. 

“This is amazing!” I hear my sisters breathless yell, filled with happiness. 

“Yeah?” I laugh, turning on my own showers. “...twenty minutes, and we have to be out of here,”

“Yeah yeah…” she replies, scrubbing at her scales after I toss her the soap. The scent is next to nothing, no floral or fruits. I am a little disappointed but would rather smell like plain soap than the stench of filth. 

A small reprieve, among the darkness. 

Twenty minutes pass faster than usual. Before long we are pulling the white tanks over our hands, nestled down to our waists and slithering out of the shower as brand new vipers. Deadeyes is leaning against the opposite wall when he spots us, pushing off to meet us with a wide grin. 

“You look… refreshed,” He offers kindly, eyeing the slightly skewed diamond pattern on my shoulders. 

“Thanks!” I reply in kind. We assume our travelling positions, following our guards to the briefing room. The walk is quick and without incident. When we step into the room, we are met with a large table. At the end sit four individuals, one of whom is Doctor Tygan. My sister and I sit on the opposite end. To my surprise, Deadeyes settles next to me; Striker beside my sister. 

A squad of four. 

“Welcome,” Dr. Tygan begins, adjusting his glasses. “...May I introduce to you our Commander, Chief Shen, and Executive Officer Bradford,” 

“Thank you for having us,” I reply diplomatically. Officer Bradford’s gaze squints, analyzing me closely. My sister slouches back in her chair, arms crossed over her chest. 

“I suppose you have a lot of questions,” Bradford takes control of the conversation. “...We also have a lot of questions. As well as some requests,”

“Requests or demands, so you don’t kill us?” My sister chimes in harshly. Her accent is thick in the common tongue, but judging by their reactions they understand her just the same. 

“Blunt. Straight to the point. I like that,” The Commander replies with a slight chuckle. “...I would consider it a little mixture of both demands and requests,”

“Great,” My sister responds sarcastically. 

“What are the demands?” I inquire, nervous settling in my stomach.

“They will come,” Officer Bradford states vaguely. “...first let's make something clear. We don’t trust you. That’s a given. You don’t trust us--,”

“Obviously,” My sister cuts in with a hiss. Bradford ignores her outburst, keeping his focus on me. 

“Dr. Tygan tells us that you think we are going to experiment on you. That is not going to happen,”

“Not while you are alive, anyway,” Chief Shen comments with a blank expression, finger drumming on the table. 

“Whatever ADVENT has told you, I am not going to sit here and tell you it is all wrong. I am sure some of it is partly true. Both sides in war believe themselves to be the right one. We are offering to set some things straight, however, and give you... better insight, for the side you are currently on,” Bradford finishes. 

“You mean manipulate us.” My sister argues, stubborn to the core. I put my hand on her arm, giving her a look. She glances away from me in clear irritation. 

“How do you plan to do that?” I offer back calmly, though anxiety sits heavy in my chest. 

“We have composed some footage for you to watch,” Dr. Tygan picks up the conversation. “... You’ll have access to one of our laptops, that also will have news clippings, testimonials… all sorts of information for you to sort through, if you feel the need,”

“Why would we agree to that?” My sister cuts in, sitting up in her seat. “...sounds like a whole slew of brainwashing. Even worse- what makes you think we are gonna listen to a bunch of humans? Of course your content is going to be biased,” Xena laughs. 

“You have humans who choose to remain under ADVENT control, correct?” Dr. Tygan asks my sister directly. 

“Yeah. Because we take care of them. Give them homes and food,” Xena comments back. 

“Do you think all the aliens, in their numerous races, also side with ADVENT?” He questions her. I watch my sisters jaw clench, her tongues slithering out in irritation. 

“No. All the stupid ones fall for your traps. Everyone knows XCOM only cares about getting earth back. They only care about other humans,” My sister hisses, anger rising into her eyes. 

I watch curiously as Dr. Tygan unclips the folder from his board. A guard walks behind him, taking the folder and walking to place it in front of me and my sister. 

“Do you remember the photos I showed you the other day?”

“About the traps?” I ask curiously, opening the folder. My sister hovers over my shoulder, eyes widening at the images. 

“Yes,” Dr. Tygan replies. “...the photos I showed you that day were cropped. What you didn’t see…”

“Were the non-human civilians…” I finish for him. My sister pulls the folder from my gasp, sorting through the photos to analyze the details. Off the side are various aliens with their children, dragging along their things, the same as the humans in the photos. 

“Yes,” Dr. Tygan finishes. 

ADVENT had always told us XCOM hated aliens. 

My sister and I are quiet as we look over the photos. The room stays silent as we do so, hardly a murmur through the group. When I look up the Commander is staring us down, patiently. 

“So… what happens next?” I ask 

“That depends,” The Commander replies to me, arms crossing over his chest. “...Would you like to hear our side of the story?”

I nod my head slowly, turning my head to my sister. She offers no rebuttal, just locks her eyes with mine for a moment before looking back down at the pictures. 

“Why?” I question quietly, eyes drifting back down to the aliens in the photo. “...why didn’t you just kill us on the field?”

“That was not my decision, at the moment,” The Commander replies almost bitterly, looking at Deadeye as the sharpshooter adjusts in his seat. “...but nonetheless, you spared our soldier in the hopes we would spare yours. I’d call saving you... just equivalent exchange,”

My orange irises turn to the sharpshooter, but find him avoiding my gaze. 

“Thank you,” I offer honestly, tilting my head with a small smile. “...my sister may not act grateful, but she is,” 

Xena scoffs in response, avoiding the conversation. 

“Do not thank us,” Officer Bradford chimes in. “...We ordered them to kill you. However, watching back the footage from the body cams… I will begrudgingly admit, Deadeye made the right call,”

“I’ve never seen ADVENT peacekeepers display emotion like that,” Chief Shen interrupts, with a solemn expression. “...I thought most of you had your emotions wiped away. Mind controlled,”

“Vipers are special cases,” I supply, leaning back into my seat. “...we have a small amount of independence. We chose to be loyal to ADVENT, per our Matriarch, who submits to the ADVENT elders in exchange for the continuation of our species,”

“What?” Striker scoffs, almost laughing. “...What do they do? Keep your men locked up in cages like fuck toys?”

“Disgusting neanderthal,” my sister hisses, glaring at the ranger before pushing the folder away. 

“Not quite,” Dr. Tygan states before I can respond. “...The viper species are currently strictly female. All their men have long been extinct. Obviously ADVENT has found a way to counteract this?”

“I do not know the details,” I offer back. “...Our den mothers have offspring, but they are only ever female. I assume it has something to do with implanting dna, but if that were the case--,”

“They are purposefully making sure you only bare females, to keep your population under control,” Chief Shen finishes, cutting me off. 

“They wouldn’t do that,” My sister hisses to me. “...are you actually believing these humans?”

“What is it you want to show us?” I reply instead, directly to the commanding Officers while ignoring my sister. Dr. Tygan bends to pick something off the floor, it looks to be a small black laptop bag. He hands it to the guard, who walks it over to place in front of us. 

“You can keep that for a while, look through it. Your new room will have access to electricity so you do not need to worry about it dying,” The Commander states loudly. “...We will give you two days to decide if you would like to continue working with us. Not as XCOM necessarily, but maybe as informants,”

“New Room?” I ask, surprised. 

“Your intel proved extremely useful,” Dr. Tygan responds with a small smile, hands interlocking with each other on the desk. “...all of our civilians remain safe and unharmed through the journey,” 

A strange awkwardness falls over the room. 

“At any time we can return you to the field,” Officer Bradford cuts in, clearing his throat. “...You will not be given any rations. But we will deposit you close enough to ADVENT territory where you should be able to find your own way. However, there will be no next time. You will be executed on sight,”

“We understand,” I reply, pulling the laptop bag towards me. “...what happens next, if we choose to stay?” 

“We have… a mission, we would like your input on,” Officer Bradford states carefully. 

“Of course they do,” My sister grumbles. I tilt my head towards her, considering her words. 

“Are we allowed to know any details?” I ask. 

“No,” Several of them reply in unison. My sister chuckles sarcastically, in response. 

“That is all for now,” The Commander sighs heavily, standing from his seat. “...Deadeye and Striker will show you to your new room. While you are receiving better facilities, in response to your cooperation; I want to make it clear you are still active prisoners. I will not hesitate to have you executed for endangering the lives of anyone on this ship. You are still to be on guard with meals at scheduled times...Your lives are forfeit if I even suspect that you are contacting anyone from ADVENT. Do you understand?” 

“Yes, sir,” I supply easily, meeting his gaze with courage. His eyes shift to my sister. 

“Do you understand? Xena?” My sister shifts her orange irises to him with a bored expression, before looking away. 

“Yes,” She snaps. 

“Good. You are dismissed,” 

Deadeye and Striker were silent as they walked us to our new room. The path was much different than it had been before, all around us were other rooms and board. We passed many troopers along the way, all holding the same look of confusion and apprehension. I tried to ignore the stares, focusing on Deadeyes back. 

“Here we are,” Deadeye announces, stopping in front of a stainless steel door. There is a black band across it, electronic lettering scrolling by. I spot our names in the scrolling, the word ‘confinement’ following after. 

“I am not gonna say this is the luxury suite but.. much better than a cement bed,” Deadeye chuckles awkwardly. “...has all the standard furnishings. Two beds, two dressers, a small television, small bathroom and sink. Compact and comfortable,”

“No shower?” I ask, already sensing my sister's complaint before she speaks it out loud. 

“No, unfortunately. But you are allowed a shower a day, we just have to escort you,” He replies. Turning away from me, he swipes a card from his pocket that opens the door. He gestures with his hand for us to go inside. 

“We will be back later to escort you for your meal,” He states simply. 

The doors slide closed behind us, leaving my sister and I with our thoughts; as well as our new laptop of information. 

“What a fucking joke,” My sister hisses, throwing her hands up in the air. “...You just went right along with it! Did you lose your backbone while I was unconscious??”

“No,” I reply quietly, depositing the black laptop bag on the ground next to my bed. “...I am simply more aware of our situation than you seem to be,”

“More aware??” My sister growls, slithering close and stretching to her full height. She may be taller than me, but I do not bow in her obvious and childish, show of dominance. 

“What do you suppose we do? Fight? Get executed? Dropped off in the middle of nowhere so ADVENT forces can find us and then fight, get executed?”

“You are already sinking into their bullshit propaganda, listen to you…” My sister hisses loudly at me. “...at least we know now how easy it is for your loyalty to turn. Just some food, a shower, and nice pleasantries,”

“Stop acting like I am the only one here,” I snap back at her. “...You are happily taking everything they give you, just the same as I am,”

“So what?” My sister bites back pacing by her bed. “...what is your great plan now? Join XCOM?”

“No,” I state. “...I never said I would join them,”

“Then what are you doing?” Xena yells exasperated. “...because it sounds like, to me, you are getting pretty fucking chummy. You even called their commanding Officer,SIR. Our den mother would-“

“Our den mother is not here!” I argue back. “...and if she were, she would tell us to do whatever it took to survive. Collect any information we could and fight back to ADVENT,”

My sister stares at me harshly for a moment, our tempers burning out. Closing her eyes, she breathes deeply before opening them again. Xena looks calmer now, almost friendly. I hear her scoff, laughing afterwards. My head tilts in confusion. 

“Of course,” She begins, laughing louder. “...of course! You were playing them!” 

“What?” I respond, quietly with my brow bones furrowing. 

“So that was your plan! Oh god. I feel dumb now. I am sorry,” My sister laughs. “...you are trying to gather intelligence so when we return, we can prove our loyalty and innocence. That is so smart,” Xena laughs, rubbing her face with her hand. 

I do not accept or deny her statement. 

“In any case,” I continue. “...we need to see what is on this laptop,”

“Sure, yeah,” My sister replies, waving me off. “...I am taking a nap first though,”

“Really?” I deadpan. 

“Yeah! They woke us up early. And I am still recovering!” She gestures to her abdomen, still wrapped in bandages. “... I’ve only been awake like a week now, does not mean my wound just magically repaired,” 

I roll my eyes at her antics, giving her a soft smile. 

“Are you going to be upset if I go ahead and start looking through everything?” I ask, climbing onto my bed. 

“Nah… you can just tell me later,” 

“Okay. You should still come look at some of it yourself after your nap,” I offer, pulling the laptop bag onto my lap. 

“Yeah I will,” She replies, pulling the thin cover over her body. “...man this pillow is comfy,”

“Oh yeah?” I laugh, watching her settle. 

Unzipping the bag, I immediately see a folder laying on the laptop. Pulling it out, it is stuff to the brim with news clippings and pictures. So much so, several spill onto my lap. I gather the materials, opening the folder fully so I can sort through everything. 

The first thing that strikes me is the images of humans encased in large tubes, various cords attached all around their bodies. There is a series of pictures all connected to the same room, zoomed out photos showing the massive size of the laboratory. I can easily estimate hundreds of humans confined to these tubes… but the question is, what for?

The next series of pictures are of whiteboards and blueprints. I do not understand all the writing that is present on them, and if I was being honest I could not even begin too. Our education into the fields of science and medicine is extremely limited in the ADVENT program, We are only taught what is necessary. Looking at these images, it appears to be various scientific formulas and a collection of a large variety of samples- both human and alien. I am beginning to suspect why. I put a couple of photos to the side, along with some of the photos with humans in tubes, to show my sister later. 

Underneath is a series of news clippings. Various headlines depicting ADVENT as destructive and corrupt. I skim through the paragraphs, not really spotting anything concrete or relevant. Most of the clippings read like opinion articles, something heavily prevalent in human newspapers. It isn’t until I get to a page with a picture of humans in tubes, that I have my interest piqued. 

In the article next to a picture of a human screaming inside a tube, they discuss the possibility of DNA manipulation. It's common knowledge among vipers that ADVENT offers to help advance our natural capabilities, though no one ever accepts the offer. Inside the article they discuss the secret to extending the elders' lifespans, which can be found in human DNA. Further going into detail about human farming and the massive amount of disappearances in ADVENT run human cities, frequently blamed as XCOM kidnapping. 

I push the clippings aside, a harsh anxiety rising in my throat. 

Removing the laptop from the bag, I open it slowly and press the power button. The screen fizzes lightly for a moment before the display pops up, immediately showing a home screen with various labeled icons. I browse through the titles, landing on an icon with the words ‘start here’ typed underneath it. 

The next couple hours are filled with videos. From interviews to body cam footage, the camera pulls from inside ADVENT bases… my mind is stuttering to keep up, while my eyes are glued to the screen. Time passes quickly while I absorb all the information I can, until I hear the fainting knocking on the steel door to our bedroom. 

“Ready to eat?” I hear deadeye call. My sister tosses in her bed slightly, but does not move to stand up. 

“Coming!” I yell in reply, placing the laptop and folder off the side of my bed while I slither up to wake my sister. 

“Xena,” I hiss, shaking her lightly. “...let us go eat,”

“Mmmm.. yeah yeah,” She mumbles, yawning wide with her fangs elongated. I shuffle over to the door, opening it and slithering out to greet them. Deadeye looks behind me, eyeing my sister as she crawls out of bed. 

“Have a nice nap?” He calls, to which my sister very obviously ignores. 

“She did,” I answer for her, stepping between the guards. Striker stands at the end, looking just as grumpy as usual. 

“You didn’t nap?” The sharpshooter asks me. 

“No. Too much to do,” I reply quietly. 

Xena eventually manages to slither in behind me. We are escorted to the cafeteria as usual. Our table is already cleared and sectioned off. My mind is preoccupied as we go through the motions, stuck in the videos I had been going through. It isn’t until my sister patts my arm that I come back to reality. 

“Are you okay?” She hisses in xeno, giving me a concerned expression. 

“I am fine, just thinking,”

“You are thinking too much,” She responds, eating a bite of food. “...those videos are already wrapping your mind. I told you it was brainwashing,”

“It is not,” I quickly argue back. “...just a different perspective is all,”

“Yeah? I bet it all was trashing ADVENT, wasn’t it?” 

“I would not say… trashing is the right word,” I offer quietly, eyes turning to the televisions propped on the top of the walls. 

“I knew it,” She snaps. “...stop watching them. We are throwing that bag out when we get back,”

“No, we are not” I bite back. “...I think it is a bit childish to assume ADVENT has never done anything wrong or suspicious, don’t you?”

“Everything they do it to protect us. Of course they have done shitty things. XCOM just spins it to make it seem like it is worse than anything they have ever done,”

I take a bite of my food, not sure what else I am supposed to say back to her. There are a million things swirling in my mind, but none of them will matter till she sees them for herself. 

“Are you freaks about done yet?” Striker heatedly snaps at us. I glance up at our guards and realize they have moved closer, all of them stationed around our table. I shift to the side to see around them, and spot several pairs of human eyes staring us down. 

“What’s going on?” I ask quietly. 

“The news,” Deadeye sighs. 

My sister and I switch our attention to the screens again, the whole cafeteria seems to have quiet down to listen. 

Executions are happening on the screen. A XCOM Commander kneeled on the ground, helmet discarded. Behind him his wife and daughter are held hostage. I am not sure what kind of video this is, ADVENT never shows executions on the standard networks. However, listening as it continues, it becomes clear this is directly shown to all XCOM vessels. The ADVENT troopers hold a pistol to the head of the Commander, a loud blast following. Half the humans look away from the screen as his body slumps to the ground. His family behind him cry in terror, as the camera walks closer to them. 

“How long will you sacrifice yourselves for a planet that does not want to be saved?” An old voice speaks over the video. The daughter is dragged away, held down to the ground as her mothers clothes are torn from her body. 

I look away from the screen. 

“Let’s head back,” I hiss low to Deadeye, my appetite gone. 

“Why? All of a sudden can’t handle watching your own videos?” Striker states harshly. “...but you are right, of course, we are the one who are monsters right?,”

“You are,” My sister snaps back. “...I would not be surprised if those so called ADVENT soldiers were just your men in disguise,”

“You are fucking delusional,” Striker growls back at her, scoffing into a laugh. “...I almost feel bad for you. So paranoid of being brainwashed, but yet; here you are,”

My sister jerks form the table to her full height, the table sliding and clattering violently. Within the split second Striker has his pistol drawn, aimed directly at her face. My sister hisses loudly, threatening while her cobra hood spread wide. My hand reaches for her arms, trying to tug her back. 

“Calm yourself,” I hiss, glancing at the crowd forming around us. “...this is not the place,”

“I unno what your sis is saying, but you better listen to her,” Strike threatens. “...seems like she is the only one with any brains,”

“We are about to see your brains,” My sister bites back, hood flailing out as wide as it can go. Striker doesn’t seem the least bit scared. 

“That is enough of that,” Deadeye interrupts, bravely walking to stand between them. I tug on my sister's arm, breaking her stare down. 

“I think it is time we go back sister,” I say to her, intertwining my fingers in her own. “...leave them,”

Eventually she listens. The transport back is tense and suffocating. Along the way a fight breaks out around us, other XCOM members threatening my sister and I as they walk by. I do not know what the rest of that video entails, but it has rallied the XCOM soldiers into a frenzy. 

“I am sorry,” I state quietly, watching my sister storm into our room. When I look at Deadeye, he is looking away from me. 

“Go on in,” He offers coldly. 

“Can I ask you something?” His head turns slowly to look at me, a heavy sigh leaving his chest. I hear Striker comment rudely behind me, aggravated. 

“What?” He inquires, eyes softening. 

“Does XCOM hate aliens?” 

Striker scoffs behind me.

“No,” Deadeye replies instantly, gaze unwavering. 

“Do you hate aliens?”

“No,” He states again. “...is that all?” I taste the air with my split tongue, looking for signs of deception. 

“Why have we not seen any other aliens on the ship? If XCOM is apparently.. so tolerant,”

“Because we don’t want you fucking messin’ with them,” Striker interrupts. “...now go into your fucking room. My whole day isn’t dedicated to babysitting your ass,”

Clenching my jaw, I abandon my conversation and slither inside. My sister is waiting for me, settled on my bed while looking through the photos. 

“I see you are interested now,” I try to tease, though the moment is much too serious to fully commit. 

“None of these prove anything,” my sister replies back to me, shuffling through them. “...all these pictures could be taken from their own facilities. There is nothing that indicates they are strictly ADVENT labs. No logos, no guards wearing our armor, no famous scientists…” she trails off. 

“Watch the videos,” I reply, crawling in next to her. “...there are interviews from members known as the Skirmishers,”

“What about them?” She hisses angrily. 

“...they are vat-grown clones based on humans, but manipulated with alien DNA,” I whisper back, opening the laptop. My sister immediately smashes it closed, holding her scaled hand over it. 

“...and?” She states coldly. My eyes widen at her angry orange ones. 

“You do not think there is anything wrong with that?” I ask her in disbelief. I hold up the images of humans lined wall to wall in vat tubes. “...you do not think there is anything wrong with this?”

“These are volunteers, and even so- those pictures have been clearly doctored to be more dramatic than they are,”

“Are you listening to yourself??” I shout, exasperated. 

“Are you listening to yourself??” She throws back to me. “...look okay, sure ADVENT is prolly doing some shitty things. But they are doing it to protect us- to further our place on earth. They are fighting for our right to live, for ALIENS right to live. You think XCOM cares about our species continuing? About any other species besides humans? No, they do not,” 

“So humans do not deserve to live?” I question her. “...it doesn’t matter what happens to them, as long as our species continues?”

“Yeah,” My sister admits, crawling off my bed. I stare at her incredulously. Not believing the words I am hearing. 

“How can you say that? Those humans, are the reason you are still breathing right now,” 

“No they are not. You are,” She sighs back at me, rubbing her snout with her hand. 

“I did not patch up your open wound that nearly killed you. I did not keep your stitches clean. I did not give you medicine to fight off the infection,” I argue with her. 

My sister sighs dramatically, throwing her hands up in the air. 

“I do not understand why you are so easily just.. accepting everything they tell you! Have you no loyalty?? ADVENT is the only thing keeping our entire species alive!”

I turn away from my sister, pulling the black laptop onto my tail. 

“You aren’t even going to answer me now? Really?” She taunts, tails flickering back and forth angrily. 

“It is clear you do not want to listen to anything I have to say,” I state simply, ruled by my own anger. “...I never said we had to betray ADVENT. All I wanted is for you to acknowledge that ADVENT has been hiding a lot from us. XCOM is obviously not all they claimed them to be, so what else are they lying about?”

“It literally does not matter,” My sister replies, picking up some of the photos in my lap. “...at the end of the day, none of these things they may or may not be doing matters. All that matters Is we get home and back to the way things are suppose to be,”

“It doesn’t matter?” I whisper. “...it does not matter if they are killing and experimenting on humans? On aliens?”

“No,” Xena states harshly, tossing the photos back onto my lap. “...you have to make sacrifices,”

“They will end up sacrificing an entire species,” I mutter back, picking up the photo of humans lined in the laboratory. 

“...and spawning a new and stronger one,” My sister replies coldly, turning away to crawl into her bed. 

“And the video in the cafeteria?” I mumble, glancing over at her back. 

“...necessary war tactics,”

The room grows quiet after that, my will to fight exhausted. I have never been so torn on a subject with my sister before. We have always seen eye to eye. Yet, every time I glance down at the photos; replay the videos in my mind- all I feel is ache. 

Compassion. 

I close the laptop and slide it back into the confines of its black bag. Neatly securing the contents of the folder back in, slotting it over the laptop; before zipping it closed. Depositing the bag on the floor beside my bed, I will the curiosity in my mind to cease.

Laying down under my comforter, I watch the rise and fall of my sister's chest. I can not remember a night where I slept separate from her, in my whole life. Not many vipers can say the same. We emerged from the same egg, identical twins. All I have ever known is the warmth of my sister, the comfort of her strength. 

She is right, like she always is. Like she has to be. 

“Xena?” I whisper, small and unsure. 

“What?” She sighs heavily, pulling the blanket over her shoulder. 

“I love you,” I watch her roll onto her stomach, flipping her head to face me. 

“I love you too, sis. You think too much,”

“You’re right,” I respond quietly, breaking our eye contact. 

Family always comes first.


End file.
